



^j2€*^ 



A SIRE OF BATTLES 

Asa M. Steele. 



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fl SIRE OF BflTTIiES 



A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS. 



BY 



ASA M. Steele. 
n 



printed for the author, 

International Printing Co., 

philadelphia. 

v.. 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONSRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

APR. 19 1901 

Copyright entry 

CLASS CtjeCo. Na. 

COPY B. 






(copyright, 1900, BY ASA M. STEELE.) 

(all rights reserved.) 



THE PEOPLE OF THE PLAY 

CIVILIANS : 

Henry Culbertson. 

Silas Townsend, a Quaker Blacksmith. 

Caesar, a Negro Slave. 

Ruth Weldin. 

Mrs. Sophie Henderson, her Aunt. 

Mrs. Dollie Allen. 

Mary Scattergood. 

Cloe, Mrs. Henderson' s Negress. 

Mrs. Barkley, of the Black Horse Tavern 

FROM THE ENGLISH FORCES : 

Lieutenant Devilliers. 
Colonel Clement. 
Major Saunders. 
Colonel Blackwell. 
Captain Gower. 
Sargeant O'Leary. 
Harris, Secretary to Clement. 
A Soldier. 

FROM THE CONTINENTAL FORCES : 

Colonel Kane. 

Sergeant Worby. 

Private Hanson. 

Private Hobart. 

Other Guests, English Officers, etc. 



THE FIRST ACT. 

In the Living Room of the Black Horse Tavern, Valley 
Forge. October ist, ijy/. 



THE SECOND ACT. 



In Mrs. Henderson' s Drawiiig Room at Germantown. 



October 2nd, lyT/. 



THE THIRD ACT. 

In the Garden, near Mrs. Henderson's House. An Hour 
Later. 



THE FOURTH ACT. 
In Mrs. Henderson' s Drawing Room. The Next Morning 



THE FIRST ACT. 

The scene represents the living room of the Black Horse 
Tavern at Valley Forge, an interior that is homelike and com- 
fortable, although beari7ig many traces of primitive frontier life. 
Through the white-wash of the walls, the logs of which they are 
composed are plainly visible. The floor is of stone flags, the 
ceiling raftered, and hung with smoked meats and clusters of 
drying herbs. A fireplace occupies most of the left side of the 
room. At the back, a small many-paned window, with a rude 
timber door to the left of it. On the right a narrow stairway 
leads up to a doo> in a corner of the room, that opens upon an- 
other flight of several steps. Oft the right, near the front of the 
scene, another door leading into the kitchen. 

The furniture is simple, even rude, and painted dark green- 
An armchair o?i the hearth rug. Near the center, a table, stir- 
rounded by chairs and a stool. In an angle of the wall below 
the fireplace, a large chest, with a picture of King George III 
suspended above it. Above the fireplace a clipboard with blue 
and white china, of the " willow " pattern. 

The action takes place on a frosty night early in October, 
177 J. A brisk fire burns on the hearth. Lighted candles upon 
the table and high mantel shelf, illuminate the room dimly. The 
table is set for shipper with some of the blue and white china. 

When the curtain rises, the stage is empty. The beating of 
a drum sounds in the distance, gradually drawing nearer until 
it seems to be beneath the window at back. 

Colonel Kane {speaking ivithoui). Halt. (The drum 
stops beating.') Order arms. Stack arms. {The clatter of 
guns is heard.) Break ranks. 

{Men's voices and laughter heard without. A knock at the 
door at the back) 

Private Hanson {without). Open ! Open ! 

{A more peremptory knock. Hanson opens the door slightly 
and looks in.) 

Hanson. The camp is deserted. 



(He flings open the door and enters, followed by Sergeant 
Worby a7zd Private Hobart The men are ragged and muddy, 
in citizen' s dress, but iv earing the accoutrements of soldiers. 
They are chilled with the night air.) 

Worby {coming doivn right). I smell cooking. {Sniffing.) 
The scent leads thither. 

Hobart {sitting at table). That means supper. The 
first home meal in six weeks. 

Hanson {coming down left and pointifig to picture of 
King George?) See ! England's King. {Drawing his knife). 
I'll have your scalp, Georgie. 

( Worby has thrown open door of kitchen on right and. 
bows ceremoniously to Mrs. Barkley in the outer room?) 

Worby. How-de-do, Madame. 

Mrs. Barkley {screaming from the kitchen, then in a 
complaining voice). Get out of here, ye ragged vagabond. 

Worby. Why, dear, I wouldn't harm ye for the world. 

{Mrs. Barkley etiters quickly from the kitchen?) 

Mrs. B. {as she comes in). I'm only a defenseless 
woman, and — {She sees Hansoii a7id Hobart, atid begins to 
sob hysterically). 

Worby. Lordy ! What's the matter? 

Mrs. B. {between her sobs). Hav'n't I troubles enough, 
but ye beggarly rascals must come here and disturb me peace, 
— do violence to me house and person. If my man John 
was alive 

Worby {taking her ami). We'll get ye another John. 

{Mrs. B. shakes him off, sobs hysterically, throws herself 
into a chair, puts her apron over her head, and sways to and 
fro. The three men look at her and each other ruefully). 

Hobart. We can't answer such arguments. 

Hanson. Give it up. Sergeant. We're defeated. 

Worby (^0 Mrs. B.) But, darlint 

{Enter Colonel Kane at back. He is dressed in the Con- 
tinental uniform of blue and buff, and is also weather-stained 
and muddy). 

Kane {peremptorily). Worby ! Hanson ! 



{The three soldiers come to an attitude of " attention" and 
salute. Mrs. B. stops crying}^ 

'Kane. You're disobeying orders. 

WoRBY. Colonel 

Kane {pointifig to door). To your posts. 

HoBART {apologetically). The chance of a solid meal, 
Colonel 

Kane. Zounds, sir ! Are you not trained to go hungry? 
{Points to door.) 

{ Worby, Hobart and Hatison exeunt at back, sheep- 
ishly. Kane turns to the door as they go out and closes it 
after them). 

{Mrs. B. has crossed steathily to left, and, while Kane' s 
back is turned, snatches the picture of King George from the 
wall, and hides it behind the chest. She then sits precipitiously 
on the chest, and sobs as Kane approaches her). 

Mrs. B. What right has General Washington — {sob) 
to send his soldiers here — {sob) to insult defenseless females? 

Kane {hidifferently). When you feel relieved ma'am. 
I'm in no hurry. 

{Mrs. B. stops sobbing abruptly, and turns on the chest 
very angry). 

Mrs. B. Fudge ! 

Kane. That's better. A clear sky is more cheerful for 
business. {Mrs. B. stamps her foot in rage). We are here to 
guard the highroad. Your tavern must be our headquarters. 

Mrs. B. {holding out her Jiand and speaking sharply). 
Pay me then. 

Kane. I see. A Tory. 

Mrs- B. No. I'm neutral {sobs) — only a poor, defen- 
seless female. {She goes up to the zuindow at back). 

Kane. What guests have you ? 

Mrs. B. None. {Looking out of window). Your 
soldiers go into my barn. Why can't they sleep in the fields, 
where they belong — the cattle. 

Kane. Your guests ? 

Mrs. B. {turning sharply). The house is empty, I tell ye. 



8 

Kane {surveying the table). Hum. Supper for three. 

Mrs. B. [embarressed). Myself — and 

Kane. Two travellers. Who are they ? 

Mrs. B. {tearfully). If my man John was alive 



Kane. I must interrupt this enjoyment you're having. 
Your book please. 

{Mrs. B. hesitates, then goes to the cupboard, finds her 
registry book, and carries it to Kane at the table. Kane opens 
the book and turns over several of its leaves^ 

Y^hXi'E. {pausing at a page aud reading). "October ist, 
1777. " They came today then? {reads) " Silas Townsend, 
— Ruth Townsend, — Lancaster." {To Mrs. B.) Please sum- 
mon them. 

Mrs. B. They left an hour since. 

Kane {with determination). Must I search the house? 
{He goes toivard the stairway at right.) 

{Mrs. B. {intercepting hitn and with a conciliatory tone). 
'Tis but a Quaker blacksmith and his child. 

Kane. Summon them please. 

{Mrs. B. exits up the stairs at right). 

{Kane crosses to fireplace and warms his hands). 

Kane {after a moment of reflection). If it should be ? 
No, he was to come from Philadelphia. {Takes a letter from 
his pocket, glances suspiciously about to see that he is alone, theti 
reads). "Go to the Black Horse Tavern. There await our 
messenger. He will make his identity known by displaying a 
silver powder-horn, curiously wrought, and w hispering ' The 
King hunts.'" {repeating to himself) " A silver powder horn, 
curiously wrought — The King hunts." {He meanwhile re- 
places letter in his pocket). Philadelphia is not mentioned. 
Can it be he? 

• {Silas Townsend enters and descends stairs at right, closely 
follotvedby Mrs. B., who exits into kitchen, right, Townsend is 
an aged Quaker, with floiving gray hair, ruddy complexiofi a?id 
dress of gray broadcloth, severely plain. He is gentle during 
the opening portio?i of tlie following scene, and speaks without 
a trace of that whining cant, sometimes attributed to the sect). 



TowNSEND. Thee has business with me, friend ? 

Kane. You are Silas Townsend ? 

TowNSEND. Yea. Of Lancaster. 

Kane. And journey to ? 

Townsend. Philadelphia. 

Kane. And your daughter ? 

Townsend. Thy business is with her, too ? {Kane bows, 
Townsend goes to the foot of the stairs aiid calls). Ruth ! 
Ruth! Daughter ! (//if turns to Kane). And now, friend, 
what wouldst thou ? 

Kane {with significance). A silver powder-horn, curiously 
wrought. 

Townsend {surprised). I never owned such a thing. 

Kane. Does the King hunt? 

Townsend. Does he ? I don't know. {Aside). The man 
is daft. ( Tapping his forehead and his finger, then aloud to 
Kane). Is this all thy business ? 

Kane. No. I desire your pass through the American 
lines. 

Townsend. I am a Quaker, friend, and believe not in 
armies nor war. Therefore I need no pass. 

Kane. Then I must detain you. 

Townsend. Detain me ? {Aside, and very nervously^ He 
grows dangerous. 

Kane. A pass is the alternative. 

Townsend {aside). I must humor him. ( Withdrawing 
from Kane, nervously.) Friend, thou seemest unstrung. Thou 
needest rest and quiet. A night's sleep is a great aid to those 
suffering from — ah — from mental excitement. 

Kane. What's the matter with your mind ? 

Townsend. My mind ? Nothing, — that is — I — I — Oh, I 
don't know what to think. {Aside). I wonder if it is contageous? 

Kane. Then you think Tm crazy. 

Townsend. It may be both our minds. 

Kane. Me ? Crazy ? {Laughs heartily.) 

Townsend. Thou saidest the King went hunting with a 
silver powder horn. 



10 

Kane {laughing). They were countersigns, man. 

TowNSEND. (Throwing up his liands). I'm fooled! Then 
if thou are not insane, what dids't thou mean by demanding 
my pass ? 

Kane. I was in deadly earnest about that, too. 

ToWNSEND [surprised). In earnest? Truly in earnest? 

Kane. Entirely so. 

TowNSEJSfD. Then I say, equally in earnest, thou shalt 
have no pass from me. 

Kane. I will and must. 

TowNSEND. By what right ? 

Kane. The right of war. 

TowNSEND {with rising anger). A plague on thy war as 
thou callest it. I know of no war. Surely thou dost not 
mean a band of vagabonds — of rioters — going about the 
country stirring up strife, stealing, murdering 

Kane {vexed). A pass, or you are deterined — by force. 

TovvNSEND. {greatly enraged). Force? Didst 'thou say 
force ? Lay thy hands on me, if thou darest. Oh ! All abom- 
ination upon thee. Thou foolest me first and now offereth 
violence — me, a harmless wayfarer, a Friend, a man of peace, 
who scorns the thought of war. Thou wouldest take from 
me that liberty for which thou fightest. ( With clenched fists.) 
Oh ! Oh ! Oh! Confusion pursue thee ! (^Walking to and fro.) 
A peaceful man going about his business and held in duress 
by such as thee. Arrest me ? Drag me before thy upstart 
leader ? Subject my daughter to insult, — the insults of a band 
of rogues ? {He stops directly in front of Kane.) Oh ! Friend, 
there are times when one forgets he is a man of peace, and 
smites ! {Raises his arm to strike Kane?) 

Kane {gazes into Townsejid' s eyes a moment, then says 
sarcastically). A man of peace, indeed ! {Townsend drops 
his arm in shame. Kane looks over Townsend 's shoulder and 
perceives Ruth Weldm,ivho has appeared on stairway at right.) 
And in the presence of your daughter, too. 

{Ruth comee down stairway and advances. She is dressed 
in the plain garb of a Quakeress, with a white kerchief about 



II 

her fieck, the ends crossed upon her bosom. On her head she 
wears a tight-fitting cap of white muslin?) 

Ruth. What does the soldier want — {liesitating slightly) 
— father ? 

ToWNSEND. Detain us. Drag us before his upstart 
leader. 

Ruth {to Kane, apologeticall)i). Father is fatigued, 
harrassed, unpracticed in war. How has he offended you, 
— ah, I mean — thee ? 

{Kane starts when she misuses the pronoun, and looks at 
Ruth, suspiciously). 

Ruth {pleading). Oh, sir, we offer no violence to thee, 
or thy cause. If — if thou shouldst detain us, — I — I — {tears 
seem to gather in her eyes, and she wipes them away with her 
handkeicliief). 

Kane {embarrassed). War is a brutal thing, mistress. 
Yet nothing is farther away from my thoughts than violence 
to the defenceless. {He crosses to the door of the kitchen, right, 
turns and bows.) You shall be unmolested. 

Ruth. Oh, I thank you — thee. 

Kane. I must report the case to General Washington. 
Meanwhile, this house is yours — I mean — thine. 

TowNSEND. And our departure ? 

Kane. That is a different matter. {Bowing, he exits 
into kitchen.) 

{ When the door closes upon Kane, Ruth drops liet tearful 
demeanor, and turns angrily to Townsend.) 

Ruth. Oh, Silas, what a fool you've been. Father will 
never forgive you. 

Townsend {meekly). When I explain their violence to 
Judge Weldin — 

Ruth. Your violence you mean. Had you kept 
your temper, we shouldn't have been in this fix. Father 
thought you cautious and cool headed. Pshaw ! When 
you should have been cunning, you were rash, when cool, 
you fly into a passion. And now, we are at the mercy of 
these ruffians 



12 

TowNSEND. In truth, Miss Ruth 

Ruth {with rising anger.') He saw through my dis- 
guise when I said "you" for "thee," I'm sure of it. Oh, 
why did I try to pose as a Quakeress ? I ought to have trav- 
elled as Ruth Weldin, a judge's daughter, not Ruth Town- 
send, a smithy's child. 

TowNSEND. Truly, if thou hads't 

Ruth (interrupting petulantly.) I should have received 
more consideration, I'm sure. In our chariot and four, with 
black Philip on the box, and outriders, and dressed in my 
flowered brocade — the very sight of me would have made 
them stand aside. 

TowNSEND. 'Twould but increase the danger. Thy 
name could not be concealed, nor that thy father was a Tory. 
Thou wouldst have been waylaid. 

Ruth. Cold comfort that. {Very angry) Could it be 
worse than it is ? {Mrs. Barkley appears in the door of the 
kitchen. Ruth suddenly resumes her mild Quaker manner }j As 
thou sayest, father, we must be resigned. 

(Mrs. B. carries a tray of dishes containifig supper. She 
places it on the table and prepares for the meal.) 

Mrs. B. [in a whining voice}) Ye had trouble, did ye? 

TowNSEND. Yea. They have detained us. 

Mrs. B. It was of ye, then, that the Colonel spoke in 
the door-yard. 

Ruth. Of us? 

TowNSEND. What did he say? 

Mrs. B. That all might enter, but none leave the house. 
If anyone attempts it, he gets powder and shot. 

Ruth. Oh ? 

TowNSEND {zvith resignation.) Truly this is a time that 
calls for Christian fortitude. 

Mrs. B. {at the table.) Will ye sit, and eat ? 

TowNSEND. Verily. I have a mighty hunger. {He sits 
on the right side of the table and eagerly uncovers the central 
dish.) Corn porridge ! Tea ! {Riieftilly.) Abomination ! 

Mrs. B. You're lucky to get that. War means starva- 



13 

tion to us. Provender is scarce already. And what must the 
rascals do last week? Why, carry off the haystack and burn 
my cornfield. 

(During this temark, Ruth had seated herself behind the 
table, and Mrs. B. takes her place on the left side of it. They 
take portions and eat a moment in silence.') 

Ruth {after tasting her tea). What peculiar tea. 

Mrs. B. We hav'n't had tea since the war began. It's 
raspberry leaves. 

Ruth (taking a sip of the tea, then with a grimmace). I 
call this true heroism. 

{A horse is heard approaching in the distance, gradually 
drawing nearer. Ruth, Towtisend and Airs. B. stop eati?ig to 
listen. Shonts are heard at back. The hoof beats stop suddenly. 
Mrs. B. runs to the window at back.) 

Mrs. B. (looking out of the ivindow). A traveller. They 
are questioning him. He dismounts. They hold a lantern to 
his face. Oh ! How handsome! (Turns, and comes down). 
He's coming in. 

ToWNSEND. To thy chamber, Ruth. Go. (Rises). 

(Ruth approaches the stairway as the door at the back 
opens and Henry Cuthbertson appears. He is a young man in 
travelling coat aud boots, and stands for a moment confronting 
Ruth, both evincing surprise at the meeting. Then Ruth turns 
quickly and approaches the stairzvay). 

Henry {advancing). Pardon this intrusion. [Mrs. B. 
comes forward ivith a smirk and curtsey). My hostess ? 

Mrs. B. Yes, sir. 

Henry. These Rebels have detained me. I seek 
lodging here. 

Mrs. B. Welcome sir. {She bustles up to the cupboard 
and brings registry book down to the table). Sign please, 

{After a moment of hesitation, Henry signs his name in 
the book). 

Henry. And now, supper. {He gives money to Mrs. B^ 

Mrs. B. All I have is cooked for these guests. If they 
will share. 



14 

TowNSEND {ruefully and aside). There is not enough now 
for a hearty meal. 

Ruth [advancing.) Certainly. If thee wishes it. 

Henry. I thank you. {He bows low and gases at Ruth 
intently, Ruth, who has heen watching him, drops her eyes. 
Henry crosses to the fireplace and warms his hands). 

Ruth {looking at the registty book on the table, aside). 
Henry Culbertson, I knew it. {She sits at the table, appar. 
ently face to face with a dilemma.) 

{Mrs. B. has laid fresh dishes at her own place at the table, 
and replaces the registry book iii the cupboard). 

{Colonel Kane enters quickly from the kitchen, advances 
and ititerrogates Henry.) 

Kane. You come from Philadelphia? 

Henry. Yes. 

Kane. Perhaps you can tell me ? 

Henry {supercilliously). I am not in the habit of gos- 
sipping with tavern loafers. 

Mrs. B. {speaking to Ruth, in an undertone). I knew he 
was a gentleman. 

Kane {angrily, to Henry). You are speaking to a 
Colonel in General Washington's 

Henry {interrupting sharply). General Washington ? 
What is he ? A traitor to the law and his King. I do not 
recognize him. 

Kane {advancing, with his hand upon his sword). 
You 

Henry. You forget yourself, sir, in the presence of 
these women. 

Kane. I need no instructions, sir. At fitting time and 
place, you shall feel the authority of General Washington. 

Henry {defiantly, and with arm uplifted). God save 
King George ! 

{The others show alarm and consternatio}i!) 

Kane. Zounds ! {For a moment he and Henry face 
each other fiercely , then Kane, with baffled rage, exits into the 
kitchen.) 



15 

TowNSEND. Well done. {He resumes his place at the 
table, and indicates opposite seat.) Be seated, friend. 

{Ruth 7'esuines her place at the table. Toumsefid begins to 
eat very fast.) 

Henry {to Mrs. B.). You will prepare my lodging? 

Mrs. B. {curtseying). At once, sir. {She disappears up 
the stairs.) 

{Heniy, standing by the fireplace, begins to retnove his 
coat, looking at Ruth. He pauses, with the garment partly off, 
shakes his head in doubt, then, appare?itly failing to settle the 
question iu his mind co7icerning Ruth's identity, he removes the 
coat, flings it over a chair and advances to a table. Here he 
pauses agai^i, with his hand on the back of his chair, gazing at 
Ruth and reneiving his mental aigume7it.) 

TowNSEND {pausing in his eating). Be seated. 

Henry {with hesitation). Have I — ah — met you before? 

TowNSEND {as he eats ravenously). I am Silas Town- 
send, of Lancaster. {Nodding his head toivard Ruth.) My 
daughter, Ruth. 

{During the following Ruth assumes an uncouth manner. 
She tiow nods her head, looking up while she eats). 

Ruth. How is thee ? 

Henry {sitting and beginning to eat). Townsend — 
Townsend. I have many friends in Lancaster, yet do not 
remember the name. 

Townsend. Thou doubtless saw my smithy as thou 
approached the town. 

■ Henry {absently). Possibly. Possibly. 

{A moment of silence, during which they eat?j 

{Mrs. Barkley descends the stainvay and advances, cur- 
tseying!) 

Mrs. B. Your bed is ready, sir. 

Henry. And I am ready for bed. 

{Mrs. B. exits into the kitchen.) 

(^As the trio partake of the meal, Ruth looks at Henry ear- 
nestly. He raises his eyes to hers. The girl's glajtce falls to 



i6 

her plate in embarrassment. Henry takes a dish and ha^ids it 
to her.') 

Henry. Your plate is quite empty. 

Ruth {taking the dish). I thank thee. {She helps her- 
self from the dish and resumes eatijig, with eyes upon her plate. 
Henry again surveys her features^ 

TowNSEND {to Henry). Thou met with difficulties com- 
ing from Philadelphia ? 

{Henry pays no attention, but is observing Ruth intently.) 

TowNSEND {in a louder tone). Thou met with diffi- 
culties 

Henry {suddenly awakening from his day dream). Eh ? 
What? 

TowNSEND. On thy way from Philadelphia? 

Henry. Ah, yes. The road is scarcely passable. 

TowNSEND. Then the King's troops are in full pos- 
session ? 

Henry. The fleet lies in the Delaware river. As yet 
the city is only occupied by Lord Cornwallis and a detach- 
ment. The main body of the army is at Germantown. 

Townsend. The Lancaster road is open ? 

Henry. Ah, the troops constitute the lesser danger. 
The neutral ground is infested with lawless bands. All is 
disorder, violence, plunder. Surely you do not think to 
journey thither? 

Townsend. We must. 

{A m.oment of silence, during which they eat.) 

Townsend. Who dost thou know in Lancaster? 

Henry. My uncle lived there — ^Julius Clark. 

{Ruth darts an apprehensive glance toward Totvnsend.) 

Townsend. Ah! One of our foremost citizens. A sad 
loss his death was, too. 

Ruth. I should say so. {Henry glances at Ruth. She 
is unconcernedly eating with her knife, and ignores his look.) 

Henry {recalling happy memories). What glorious days 
I spent in Lancaster as a boy. What friends I made — dear 
friends. I had a sweetheart, too, aged twelve — a little girl 



17 

that lived next door. [Ruth drops her knife with a clatter. 
Henry pretends not to notice it^ Such a dainty maid. Eyes 
that might have stolen their amethyst from an October sky. 
Her hair? The golden sheen of an autumnal woodland. A 
cheek as soft as the mists in a valley, when sunset kisses them. 
(To Townsend.) You must know her, Judge Weldin's daugh- 
ter, Ruth. 

TowNSEND {greatly embarrassed). I — thee — that is — 

{Ruth interrupts desperately. She sits with her fists on the 
table, holding her knife and spoon upright in either hand.) 

Ruth {roughly^ Ruth Weldin? Oh, yes, I know her. 
A stiff-necked minx, full of pride and vain-glory. 

Henry. Indeed? Then I'm glad I if(?w7 know her. 

Ruth. Quite heartless to her suitors. 

Henry. She was always that. 

Ruth {offended^ That is, they say so, I never met her 
myself. She is far too proud for smithy's daughters. 

Henry. Enough. My last regret is dead. 

Ruth {trying to concilate hiv!.) It may be only idle 
gossip, thee knows. 

Henry. There must be some fire to so much smoke. 
{Sighs.) My mind picture was so different. My little sweet- 
heart grown to charming womanhood. Beautiful, gracious, 
lovable and yet, with a touch of wayward piquancy that 
added uncertainty to her favors. (Turning to Ruth.) Indeed, 
I fancied she resembled you. 

Ruth {j'lsing in einbarrassvient.) Flatterer ! 

Henry. Pardon, I interrupted your meal. 

Ruth. I have finished. {She retires to the window^ 

Townsend. So have I. {Ruefully?) There's nothing more 
to eat. 

{Mrs. Barkley enters from the kitchen) 

Mrs. B. {hysterically, to Townsend). I'm sure we'll all 
be murdered before the night is out. Those rogues are in 
the stable, looking at your horses. They'll be stolen first 
thing you know. 

Townsend. They would not dare. {He rises hastily and 



i8 

approaches the door of the kitchen}) Daughter, get thee to 
thy chamber. 

Ruth. Yea, father. 

{Townsend exits into the kitchen). 

(3Irs. Barkley lias removed the dishes from the table, and 
follows Townsend.) 

[Ruth is about to mou7it the stairs, when Henry detains her 
with a gesture^ 

Henry. Miss 

Ruth. Townsend. 

Henry. Your road to-morrow will be difficult, and 
beset with dangers. If I may accompany — protect you. 

Ruth. Oh, sir, I am not afraid. 

Henry. These lawless marauders 

Ruth (assuming a belligerent manner}^ Molest me? Let 
them try. I'm a smithy's daughter, thee knows. 

Henry. A strong arm 

Ruth (feelifig her arm.) Like mine. 

Henry {drawing his pistol?) Assisted by 



Ruth {very much frightened.) Oh ! The ugly black 
thing. Put it away. It might explode. 

Henry. Should a highwayman point this in your face — 
{Raising the pistol slightly). 

Ruth {with a little scream, and putting her hands over her 
face.) Oh ! yes, on second thought, thou mayest accompany 
us. But we start very early. To-morrow must see us at our 
journey's end. The next is First Day, thee knows. 

Henry {fofidly.) To-day is the first day — the first day 
of a new life for me. {He approaches her.) 

Ruth {retreating from him.) Thou dost not understand. 
By "First Day" a Quaker means Sunday. 

Henry {turning from her). You grieve me, mistress. 

Ruth {approaching him shyly). Such was not my intent. 
Forgive me, wilt thou not? 

Henry. Forgive? {Approaching her.) Nay, rather 
should I be the suppliant, you a queen — bestowing kingdoms 
in a smile, banishment and despair with each denial. Oh, 



19 

mistress, could }-ou but know what this meeting means to 
me. 'Tis one glimpse of paradise in a woman's eyes. {Ruth's 
glance meets his for a moment, the7i she again retreats from him. 
Henry evinces discouragement}^ And yet, every effort to 
make our friendship more steadfast, is met with denial and 
repulse. 

Ruth. Thou forgettest. I may look with favor upon 
none but Friends. 

Henry. Am I not your friend ? 

Roth. I mean the Society of Friends, Quakers thou 
wouldst call us. Beside, I am but a passing acquaintance. 
Thou forgettest thy old sweetheart, Ruth. 

Henry, Better so. 

Ruth. Nay, I was unjust and harsh, perhaps. She may 
not be the woman I thought. What image dost thy mind 
picture ? 

Henry. Ah, her face is with me ever, as is this symbol 
of our troth. (He displays a piece of coin, which hangs sus- 
pended by a cliain about his neck.) A fragment of severed 
shilling, say you? Yet the other half should nestle upon her 
bosom e\'en now. (Ruth turns from him in embarrassment.) I 
forget. This cannot interest you. 

Ruth (eagerly). It does. It does. (Gently.) I, too, had 
a sweetheart once. And by this tailsman? 

Henry. We promised to love and remember all our 
days. Remember? (He looks fondly upon t/ie coin.) Gazing 
upon this, I have pictured her dear lineaments day by day 
and month by month. I have seen her grow into woman- 
hood — her face, her smile, the radiance of her glance, eter- 
nally pictured in my thoughts. I have waited — waited and 
longed for that sweet hour when — I, a man — she, a woman — 
I could go to her — (he goes toward Ruth extending the coiii) — 
with this fragment of coin, and claim the fulfillment of her 
promise. 

Ruth (ivith a sigh.) Her promise? 

Henry. Ah, yes. How I live again that summer day. 
It was in his father's barn — a" warm, dusty, fragrant place, 



20 

filled with dark silence and the breath of living things. We 
built a cave amongst the hay, with walls burrowed beneath 
the tallest stack, and overhead a roof of sticks and yellow 
straw. Playing at house, the floor served as our table, and 
for the banquet, armsful of fruit filched from the nearby gar- 
den — apples, golden pears and purple grapes. 

Ruth. And then ? 

Henry. I said we could play house always. She 
answered not, but only sang, and sang. Ah, that dear 
refrain — " Dost thy sweetheart " 

Ruth {beginning to sing). "Woo with tender sigh." 
{Speaking.) Thou seest, I know it well. {She resumes sing- 
ing the song.) 

Henry {aside). Her voice ! 

Ruth. The song ends in a denial. Did'st thy wooing 
do the same? {She residues singing?) 

Henry. I told her all that was in my heart. She 
answered not, except as you sing now. Then, before the 
words of denial were uttered, I seized her hand. {He takes 
Ruth's hand in his.) She did not resist. I took her in my 
arms. {He embraces Ruth?) 

Ruth {singing, as she releases herself). " But she only 
answered 'Nay, nay, nay!'" {Speaking.) Thou forgettest. 
I am not Ruth Weldin. {She retreats from him.) 

Henry. You are. Even Ruth, — My Ruth ! 

Ruth {alarmed), Thou thinkest? 

Henry. I know. Your disguise is as thin as the ker- 
chief about your neck. And when I heard that song 

Ruth {interrupting him angrily). You let me go on, 
knowing full well? 

Henry. Had I not cause? My sweetheart under a false 
name and in disguise ? How could I guess the why or where- 
fore — what danger your secret might conceal? {He ap- 
proaches her.) 

Ruth. No word, no look of recognition 

Henry. On my face, no. But in my heart? {He smiles, 
happily.) 'Twas sweet, so sweet. I let you go on, hoping. 



21 

trusting that by some word, some sign, you would answer 
me. You still wore the token. 

Ruth {quickly putting a hand to her bosom). My token ? 

Henry. And as I saw it nestling there, half concealed, 
what could I think but that you remembered? 

Ruth. 'Twas years ago. A child's promise, half meant. 

{Henry tears his token from his 7ieck and extends it toward 
her.) 

Henry. Then I return this, as I agreed, at your com- 
mand. 

Ruth {hesitating). You value it ? 

Henry. Here dies a sweet dream, cherished for many 
a year — in boyhood, in youth, in manhood. 

Ruth {softly). I never thought you still loved me. 

Henry. Loved you? I always loved you. This symbol 
of our promise is more precious than wealth, or rank, or 
fame. {He kisses the shilling, then holds it toward her once 
more.) Take it again. {Ruth is silent.) Receive it, and 
our promise is as if it had never been. {Ruth is silent.) 
Answer me. 

Ruth. You had best keep it. 

Henry {with great joy). You — love me ? 

Ruth. I cannot tell. {Turning to him.) But I think — 
{Henry atteinpts to sieze her in his arms. She waves him aside.) 
See what time brings forth. Wait ! Wait ! 

{The door from the kitchen is thrown open and Colonel 
Kane enters.) 

Kane {to Hejtry). Sir, you are my prisoner. 

Ruth {greatly frightened). Arrest him ? 

{Henry quickly draws his pistols, Kane approaches him in 
a positioti of attack, his sword drawn. By a quick movement, 
Kane disarms Henry, wounding his hand. Katie seizes Henry 
around the body.) 

Henry {whispering to Kane). The king hunts. {He 
draws a silver powder horn from beneath his coat.) 

Kane {releasing Henry). You surrender ? 

Henry. Yes. 



22 

Ruth. Thou wouldst not — r [She sees Henry's wounded 
hand.) Wounded ? 

Henry (wincing with pain). A trifle. 

[Ruth takes her handkercJiief from lier girdle, and ban- 
dages Henrfs hand with it.) 

Henry [fondly, to Ruth). What are cold words of 
thanks ? 

Kane [to Henry). I must search you. If the lady will 
withdraw 

[Ruth crosses a?id begins to mount the stairway. Henry 
turns toward her fondly. Ruth passes, draws her talisman 
from her bosom, kisses it and disappears up the stairs. 

( When Ruth has made her exit, Kane laughs heartily, 
turning to Henry ^ 

Kane. I congratulate you. The comedy was well 
enacted. 

Henry [sadly). It was tragedy to me. Oh, that I must 
play this part. Patriot and Tory — I deceive them both. 

[Ruth is heard singing the love song in the distance}^ 

Henry [going to the stairivay and listening). Even she — 
she must not know. The thought is a thousand daggers. 

Kane [gaily). A maid more or less 

Henry [turning sharply upon Kane). My sweetheart ! 

Kane [greatly sjirprised). Sweetheart? Poor fellow. 
[He throws his arm over Henry's shoulder and grasps his hand, 
with sincere sy7npathy.) Poor fellow. 

Henry [leaving htm). Oh, I am weary of it all. Why 
cannot I tell the truth — that sympathies, my heart, my very 
life belongs to this cause. 

Kane [seeking to comfort Henry). He knows. What 
more can you wish? Of all our men, you are chosen for this 
dangerous mission — given the supreme token of his con- 
fidence. 

Henry. Coward that I am. [He seises Kane's hand?) 
Forgive me. 

Kane. And now to our affairs. 



23 

Henry. First, my credentials. {He takes a paper from 
his pocket and hands it to Katie.) 

Kane {reading from the paper). " The bearer is a 
patriot," — "Afford every consideration," — "George Wash- 
ington." {He harids the paper back to Henry.) Your news? 

Henry. The General is waiting a chance to strike a 
decisive blow ? 

Kane. True enough. Well? 

Henry. That chance has come. 

Kane. Victory ! But how ? And where ? 

Henry. Mingling with the royal officers at German- 
town, I learned that forces were gradually being withdrawn 
to attack our forts on the Delaware. 

Kane. They seek to reduce them. Well? 

Henry. Yesterday a soldier departed with letters to 
the fleet. Could I but learn their contents, said I, my work 
is done. 

Kane {eagerly). You did ? 

Henry. Better than that. Scarce stopping to saddle 
my horse, I rode post haste to the city, there hired three 
footpads — desperate fellows — like myself — ready for bribes 
and adventure. Along comes our messenger, gay in scarlet 
and gold {imitating) riding so bravely that the girls all 
turned in amaze. {Kane laughs, Henry joining in his merri- 
ment}^ He went to the tap-room. We pledged him the 
health of King George, again and again, and left him kissing 
the barmaid. {Kane laughs.) His sweets were half gathered 
as we rode to the woods near the ferry. There we lay in the 
marsh and briars, now trembling with hope as some horseman 
approached, now deep in despair, when it proved not he. We 
saw not his face as he came, but heard the rattle of arms on 
his saddle, the ballad he was singing about Polly at home — 
that far away home over seas. Like wolves we sprang upon 
him. Down he came from the saddle. Away went the horse, 
screaming with terror. A struggle of madmen, a blow 
with a fagot, and there he lay by the roadside, silent and 



24 

vanquished. A mighty man that Corporal Martin — he fought 
like a tiger. 

Kane. His dispatches ? 

Henry {quickly witlidrawing a packet from his bosom). 
Here! 

Kane (opening and eagerly perusing the dispatches). At 
last ! Our chance has come. {Reading) " The enemy will 
move toward the Delaware" — "we send reinforcements." 
{Turning to Henry) But the number of troops Howe is with- 
drawing ? 

Henry. I know not. 

Kane. If two hundred, we dare not attack. If two 
thousand, victory is ours. 

Henry. I will return for the numbers. 

Kane. If caugh': as Martin's assailant? 

Henry. Bah! What is danger? 

Kane. Learn the numbers and positions of the enemy. 
Meanwhile we advance. Your next message will be our 
signal for battle. 

( The sound of a falling body is heard from the stairway, 
then Ruth, sobbing with pain.) 

Ruth {outside the door of the stairway). Oh ! Oh ! 
Help me ! Oh ! Oh ! 

{Henry and Kane run up the stairway, fling open the door, 
and lift Ruth from the steps upon which she is lying.) 

Henry. You are hurt ? 

Ruth {sobbing). Oh ! Oh ! 

Henry {to Kane). Help me. 

(77^1? two 7nen assist Rutli down the stairs.) 

Kane. What has happened ? 

Ruth {apparently in great pain). Oh ! I cannot step on 
this foot at all. {With a little scream.) Carefully! Not so 
fast ! {They reach a chair by the table, and Ruth sinks itito it 
zvith a moan.) I was coming down the stairs, slipped and 

fell, then {She attempts to move her foot, then sobs with 

pain.) 

Kane. Your ankle ? 



25 

Ruth. Sprained, I think. Call father ! Quickly. 
{Impatiently , as neither man shows a disposition to go?) Go ! 
Go! 

{Kane exits quickly into the kitchen}) 

{As soon as he is off Rzitli s manner is transformed. She 
rises with energy and turns to He?try.) 

Ruth {pointing to the door at back). Your way lies 
there. Quickly ! Before he returns. 

Hehry {greatly surprised). Your ankle? 

Ruth. A ruse. That you might escape. {Pointing to 
the door.) Yonder lies the high road — woods — safety. 

Henry. You do this? 

Ruth. For your cause and mine — for King George. 

Henry {conscience stricken). I will not go. 

Ruth. Oh, what is ours or any cause besides your 
safety ? That is what I seek. {Henry hesitates.) I ask this. 
I, Ruth Weldin, who, in our childhood {She hesitates.) 

Henry. For your sake alone ? 

Ruth {softly). Yes. 

Henry. For you I go. {He bends and kisses her hand.) 



END OF THE FIRST ACT. 



26 



THE SECOND ACT. 

The scene represents the drawing-room of Mrs. Hender- 
son's house, near Germantown. It is a stately apartment, with 
richly earned pilasters and pediments about the doorways, win- 
dow, alcove and above the fireplace, these ornaments followijig 
the classic outlines that were the fashion of the time. A 
■wainscot extends around the walls, the white panels reaching 
upwards about three feet from the floor. Above this the room 
is hung with paper repeating the ' ' Pineapple and Rose 
design. The mantel and fireplace are on the right, with a 
door on the tipper side opening into the library of the mansion. 
On the left a double door of mahogany. The back of the scene 
is almost entirely occupied by a7i arch, opening upon a semi- 
circular bozu ivindoiv, with casements of many panes. The 
sashes are hung with green "Venetian" blinds, and the arch 
with red damask curtains. Beyond the windoiv is seen an 
autumnal landscape, the tents of the British camp and houses 
scattered along a single street. 

Portraits oinament the zvalls and fill a panel over the fire- 
place. The furniture is of mahogany , covered ivitli gay bro- 
cades. A profusio7i of bric-a-brac, chiefly East Indian in 
character, is scattered abotit. A large round table, littered with 
papers, stands slightly to the right of center, with an arm 
chair on either side of it. On the left, a high-backed " settle!' 
Another table, small and round, stands conveniently near the 
arm chair di-awn up to tlie fireplace. A liarpsichord close to 
the central arch, and to the left of it. 

A brisk fire burns upon the hearth. It is late in the after- 
noon, and golden sunlight falls through the windozvs from the 
right, illuminating the harpsichord, and part of the room. 

A sentinel in English uniform occasionally paces to and 
fro outside of the windoiv. 

Colonel Clements, a portly, middle-aged English officer, is 
seated before the fire, zuith one leg extended upon another 
chair, and his feet close to the blaze. Harris, a lean, shrivelled 



27 

and nervous amanuensis in citizen' s dress, is seated at the large 
table, writing tuith a quill pen. Mrs. Henderson, a slender 
woma?i, who is slightly masculine in appearance and manner, 
has just entered the door o?i the left, and is crossing zvith a tray 
contahiing a decanter of wine and a wineglass. 

Mrs. H. {sharply'). The servants were busy, so I brought 
it myself. [She places the tray oti the small table at Clemeiit s 
elbow, and pours the wine.) 

Clement. You are a model hostess, Mrs. Henderson. 

Mrs. H. (with a touch of sarcasm). Since we must 
shelter soldiers, you are a model guest, Colonel Clement. 

Clement [laughing). You should have sought the 
wilderness as we advanced. 

Mrs. H. [fussily putting the furniture to rights). 
Thanks. I stayed to guard my own. Beside, I prefer Red 
Coats to redskins. 

Clement [tasting the wine). Hum — Burgund)'. I 
drink nothing but claret before dinner. 

Mrs. H. Take a brew of my making. 'Twill cure you 
in an hour. 

Clement. What ! Calomel ? 

Mrs. H. No, currant bitters. Then a foot bath and 
flax seed poultice. 

Clement. For what? My bruised knee? 

Mrs. H. Your gout, of course. 

Clement [with injjired dignity). Gout, Madame ? I 
don't know "what gout is. I slipped while dismounting. 

Mrs. H. {stubbornly). 'Tis gout, I say. 

Clement [vexed). Madame ! 

[Mrs. H. seizes the decanter sharply and crosses to the 
door.) 

Mrs. H. I don't know how it is, no one but myself is 
ever in the right. [She disappears through the door at left). 

Harris [meekly). Dear me ! Our hostess adds a spice 
to life, doesn't she? 

Clement. Hum ! I should say sulphur. What were 
your last words ? 



28 

Harris {reading from the manuscript on the table before 
him). "The troops will reach you before these letters, as 
my dispatches, of which the enclosed are duplicates, were 
intercepted by ruffians last Thursday night." 

Clement. Hum. [Dictating). " I annex a descrip- 
tion of Martin's assailants." [He takes a printed proclamation 
from the table at his elbow and glances at it, apparently 
puzzled). One might almost believe it was he. {Here he 
reads a detailed description of Henry Culbertson — height, 
weight, complexion, etc.) No, no. It must be a coincidence. 

Harris. Shall I write that? 

Clement. Certainly not. {Dictating). " The evident 
desire of the Rebels" — {Harris zmites) "to maintain the 
obstructions on the Delaware" — {Hart is writes) . 

[Lieutenant Devilliers, a tall, stout fellow, sensual and a 
bully, dressed in English uniform, enters through the window at 
back.) 

Devilliers. Good e'en. Colonel. 

Clement. Ah, Devilliers. 

{Devilliers turns and looks out of the window.) 

Devilliers. Beautiful ! Beautiful ! 

Clement. Devilliers ! {Devilliers turns from the win- 
dow). Help me with this confounded report. 

Devilliers. I'm on duty. Colonel. [He again looks 
out of the window) In pursuit of another charmer. A 
stranger. Yes, she's coming here. As dainty as a bit of 
Dresden china. 

Clement. Which you will straightway proceed to 
break. 

Devilliers [advancing). A servant, I think. She 
cannot harm me. 

Clement. But you can harm her. 

Devilliers. Pshaw ! What matter ? 

Clement. You think because Lady Devilliers is in 
London 

Devilliers. My wife? [Laughing). She's hardened 
to my escapades, indeed, rather expects them. 



29 

Clement {regretfully). Ah, these latter day fashions. 

Devilliers {reading Harris' matitiscript). And what 
are we writing to our Lord Admiral ? 

Clement. Of the assault on the dispatch bearer. 

Devilliers. Tell him of the social campaign. 'Twill 
interest him more. 

Clement. Lord Howe is not likely to forget the fes- 
tivities. {Clement has a spasm of pain in his foot and writhes 
under it?} I know I won't. 

{Mary Scattergood is heard arguing with the sentinel out- 
side of the windo7v.) 

Mary S. Let me go in ! I must see him, I tell ye. 
An outrage ! Treating an honest woman in this fashion. I 
will see him ! Touch me if ye dare ! 

{Mary Scattergood enters through the windoiv. She is a 
very old woman from the lower walks of life, uses a crutch- 
cane, and talks rapidly, without inflection or punctuation.') 

Mary S. {to Devilliers). Be ye this Colonel Clement? 

Devilliers. No, good-wife. Your grievance? 

Mary S. I'm going to give this here Colonel Clement 
a piece of my mind. His soldiers robbing a poor woman's 
hen-roost. And when I belabored them with my stick they 
laughed, and one of them tried to kiss me. {Greatly insulted.) 
Think of it! Kiss me! But I'll have me money, every 

farthing of it, or I'll {She sees Clement.) Be ye this 

Colonel Clement? i 

Clement. Um — ah — Colonel Clement is inspecting his 
regiment — will not return until night. 

Mary S. Then here I sit {she sits decisively by the large 
table) until he comes back, and I get my money. I'll show ' 
him his blackguards can't rob women's hen-roosts and not 
pay for what they take. {Site strikes the table with her fist. 
Harris is greatly frightened.) I'll have four shillings, six 
pence — or nothing. Two shillings for my red rooster, a 
shilling apiece for them three black hens, and sixpence for 
my trouble. And if he don't pay, I'll sit here forever, or 
carry this chair away in pawn. {She repeats the blow on the 



30 

table. Harris is livid with fright, Devilliers convulsed with 
laughter^ 

Clement {j)ompously). Madame, I sympathize deeply 
with your grievance, and were I Colonel Clement the money 
should be paid at once. But the only person present author- 
ized to treat is the Colonel's secretary, Mr. Harris. <^He 
indicates Harris, who is trembling with terror^ 

Mary S. {to Harris). You 

Harris {tt embling). I — I 

Clement {rising). Will you step into the library, 
madam ? {He indicates the door on the right.) Harris, con- 
duct the lady to the library. 

{Harris goes up to the door of that apartment, and opens it.) 

Mary S. {following Harris). I won't be put off, I tell 
ye. {She disappears into the library, her voice being heard in 
the distance.) Two shillings for my red rooster, a shilling 
apiece for them three hens— 

{Harris closes the door sharply^ 

Harris {anxiously to Clement^ Colonel ! Must I ? 

Clement. What? And you a soldier? 

Harris. I — I forgot that. 

Clement. And therefore a brave man. 

Harris {opening the library door.) Ye — yes, I am a 
brave man. {He goes into the library.) 

{Devilliers and Clement laugh heartily, the latter walk- 
ing across the room, with the assistance of a cane.) 

{Mrs. Henderson appears in the door on the left, carrying 
a tray of tvine, which she places on the table ^ 

Mrs. H. I've the greatest news, she has arrived at last. 

Devilliers. Who? 

Mrs. H. Another guest for our ball to-night. I'll 
fetch her, when she smarts herself You must dance with 
her Colonel. {Slie seises Clement's hands, and drags htm 
through several dance steps. Clement gasps ivith pain and 
sinks into a chair. Mrs. Henderson suddenly repents}^ I for- 
got. Your foot. J^et me rub it for you. {She makes amotion 
to seize Jus foot.) 



31 

Clement (interfering). No }ou don't. 

Mrs. H. 'Twill do it good, since it's not gout. 

Devilhers. But the new arrival? 

Mrs. H. a beauty. As dainty as a primrose. 

Clement (iiursing his foot). Some women remind me 
of thistles. 

Mrs. H. What success, Lieutenant? Will they come 
to-night ? 

Devilliers. All but Madame Allen. She declined. 

(^Caesar, a negro slave, in livery, appears at the door on 
left. He mimics the manner of the military, sahding when he 
speaks and " wheeling" when he walks.) 

Mrs. H. I'm glad of it. DoUie Aliens' a sharp tongued 
vixen and a bore. 

Caesar (a7inonncing). Madame Dollie Allen, Mr. 
Sampson. 

{Mrs. Allen and Henry Culbertson enter.) 

Mrs. H. {Rtinning to Mrs. Allen and kissing her 
effusively). Dollie! Dearest! What a delightful surprise. 
Good e'en, Mr. Sampson. (She curtsies to Henry, who boivs. 
Mrs. Henderson turns to Caesar.) Caesar, tell Cloe to bring 
the tea. 

{Caesar salutes and disappears.) 

{Mrs. Hendersoii puts her arms around Mrs. Allen' s waist 
and they come down on the right. Mrs. Allen is short and 
stout, with an aged, faded face, and extremely feminine and 
precise in her manner. She is dressed girlishly in clierry 
color and white, with many libbons and'' butterfly" bows. She 
ts not a stage spinster.) 

{Henry Sampson — Culbertson, the hero — is richly dtessed 
in the height of the fashion. He crosses to Clement and 
Devilliers on the left). 

Henry {shaking their hands). Colonel — Lieutenant. 
Devilliers {addressing Henry as an old friend). De- 
lighted, Harry. How is the rheumatism ? 

Henry. Entirely well, thanks, except the hand. {He 
indicates his hand, which is bandaged.) 'Tis still sore. 



32 

{The three men partake of snuff.') 

Mrs. H. {to Mrs. A.). So sorry, sweetheart, you are not 
coming to-night. 

Mrs. a. But I am. 

Mrs. H. You declined. 

Mrs. a. {wzt/i envenomed siveetness). Of course, Sophie, 
dear. But now I accept — to turn your sorrow into joy. 

{Cloe, the negress, has entered on the left, with a tray con- 
taining tea and cups. She places them on the harpsichord!) 

Mrs. Y{. {rising and aside). Impudent minx! {She goes 
up to the harpsichord}) 

Mrs. a. {with great disgust, as Mrs. Henderson leaves 
her.) Pah ! {She straighte7is her ribbons^ 

{Cloe, the negress, is standing military fashio?i, and salutes 
as Mrs. Henderson approaches her.) 

Mrs. H. {astonished). Cloe ! 

Cloe {apologetically). I ain't doin' nothin', missus. {She 
salutes.) 

Mrs. H. You're not a soldier. 

Cloe. I — I know. But Caesar says as now de so'jus 
am so perspicuous, I must learn de military tictacs. 

Mrs. H. {indicating the door, left). Go. 

{Cloe exits, military fashion.) 

Mrs. H. {as she pours the ted). Tea, Dollie? Tea 
Colonel ? 

Mrs. a. Harry will bring me mine. {Henry goes up to 
Mrs. H. Mrs. Allen crosses to Clement and sits beside him.) 
'Tis such a comfort. Colonel, to have a gallant in attendance. 
{Confidentially, to Clement.) I'm in such a quandary — really- 
losing sleep o' nights. 

Clement. Tell me, madame, that I may rescue you. 

Mrs. a. I'm going to give a ball — not a "small and 
early," like Sophie's to-night, but a really grand affair. 
Everyone will be there, but for the life of me I cannot remem- 
ber all the officers' names. 

Clement. There's General Howe 

Mrs. a. Of course. And Colonel Knyphausen, and 



33 

Major Andre, — and the tall Captain in the Queen's Rangers, 
— and the other beau with the Chasseurs, — and, — I can go 
no farther. 

Clement {after a moment of reflection). Now that I 
think of it, I have a complete list of the forces and their 
commanders. {He goes to the large table, takes vp a folded 
sheet of blue paper and carries it to Mrs. Allen}) I shall be 
happy, Madame, if you make your choice from this. {He 
hands the paper to Mrs. Allen.) 

Mrs. a. You are an angel. {She opens the paper and 
peruses it.) Dear me ! 'Twill take an hour to copy them. 

Henry {who has aproached them with two cups of tea.) 
Mrs. Allen, — Colonel, your tea. Perhaps I can copy the list 
for you. 

Mrs. a. So like you, Harry dear. ( Turning to Clem- 
e7it.) If he may? 

Clement. Certainh'. Certainly. You'll find quills 
and paper yonder, Harry. {He indicates the large table.) 

Henry ci asses to the table, sits beside it and begins to 
write.) 

Mrs. a. {to Clement, cotifidentially). Isn't Harry a most 
lovable fellow ? My heart is quite touched. 

Clement {testily). So I've heard, madame. 

Mrs. a. {laughing, coyly). There, there. Don't be 
jealous. I'm not quite vanquished yet. But tell me of your 
adventures in New York last winter. {Mrs. Allen and Clement 
converse in pantomime.) 

Mrs. H. {who has been conversing ivith Devillicrs near the 
window). Have you heard, Dollie? General Howe has con- 
fiscated Katie Pemberton's coach and dapple grays. {To 
Devilliers.) She does not hear me. 

Devilhers. I've used that as an argument to get 
Harry's horse. 

Henry {as he writes). I would not part with him for ten 
others. The beast is like an old friend. 

Devilliers. If you won't sell, I'll confiscate. 



34 

Henry. Too late. I heard of Mrs. Pemberton's loss, 
and sent my horse to Whitemarsh. 

Mrs. H. You're worsted, Lieutenant. Have another 
cup for consolation. {She pours tea for Devilliers.) 

{Henry rises from the table with two papers in his hands, 
the original blue list and a copy of it 071 white paper. He looks 
intently toward Devilliers, then at Clement, hesitates a moment 
and finally crosses to Mrs. Allen and Clement}) 

Clement {to Mrs. Allen). Your cup is empty. Let me 
get some more. 

Mrs. a. {giving Clement her cup). Thanks. But first 
tell me how the story ended. What is the appearance of these 
spies ? 

Clement. Quite commonplace. {Indicating?) Devilliers, 
Sampson, or myself. 

Mrs. a. I fancied them mysterious rascals in cloaks, 
big hats and faces like sour pippins. ( With imitative grimace^ 

Clement. Nathan Hale was quite genteel — a school- 
master, I believe, 

Mrs. a. And his end? 

Clement. We hanged him in the orchard next sun-up. 

Mrs. a. {sadly). Poor wretch. 

Henry {who has approached them unobserved). A spy 
deserves to be hung — when you catch him. 

Mrs. a. Still, they are men. 

Clement. Nothing of the sort, madame — foxes, in 
human shape. 

Henry. A spy is a huntsman who pursues victims less 
intelligent than himself. {He hands the white -paper to Mrs. 
Alleni) Your copy, Mrs. Allen. {Henry turns to demerit, 
indicating the bhie pciper^ And the original ? 

Clement. Destroy it. {He rises.) 'Tis a dangerous 
thing to have about. {He goes up to Mrs. Henderson witli the 
teacups. She refills them.) 

{Henry slotvly crosses to the right, looking at the blue paper, 
which he slowly folds up. He pauses near the side of the large 
table, with his face to the audience, slips the blue paper into his 



35 

bosom, and takes a sheet of white paper from the table. This he 
tears into small pieces as he approaches the fireplace. As he 
turns to go toivard the maittel, he looks intently toward Mrs. 
Henderson, Devillicrs and Clement, by the harpsichord. The 
two oncers are watching Mrs. Henderson pour tea and have not 
perceived his ruse. He then looks toward Mrs. Allen, who has 
seen his action and is looking at him with startled surprise. 
Henry, with a quick movement, casts the fragments of paper into 
the fire, and raises his finger to his lips with a warning gesture 
to Mrs. Allen. Clement turns and advances to Mrs. Allen 
zvith her teacup. Henry drops his hand and' leans idly upon 
the mantel^ 

Clement {to Henry). You destroyed it, Harry ? 

Yi'EK'RY (poititing to the fire). See! 'Tis ashes and smoke. 

(^A disturbance is heard in the library. Harris appears in 
the door of the apartment, greatly dishevelled, and followed by 
Mary Scattergood, who belabors him with her crutch.) 

Mary S. Take that ! And that! I'll not be deceived, I 
tell ye. 

(Henry intercepts Mary Scattergood. Harris crouches 
behind the table in terror}) 

Mary S. {greatly surprised). Mr. Sampson? 

Henry {to the others). The landlady at my lodgings. 

Mary S. You'll help me, I know ye will. 'Tis about 
the looting of my hen-roost, last Thursday night, when you 
were in the woods. 

Mrs. a. {surprised, and aside). Thursday ? In the 
woods? 

Henry {anxiously, and pushing Mary Scattergoad toward 
the windozv). Yes, yes, I remember; and more, I'll see that 
you get your money. Believe me. Go — go. 

Mary S. {at the window, and brandishing her crutch 
toward Harris). This time 'twas my crutch. Next time, I'll 
bring a gun. {She disappears through the ivindow.) 

{^All laugh except Harris and Mrs. Allen, who watches 
Henry with severity.) 

Harris. The library is a wreck. 



36 

Mrs. H. [etiraged). Oh ! this is dreadful. 

Clement {conciliating her). Nay, 'tis nothing. 

Mrs. H. Nothing? My furniture? 

Devilliers {mimicking Mary Scattergood) My rooster ? 

Harris {rubbing his back). My back ? {He exits into 
the library^ 

Mrs. a. {to Henry, with severity). My confidence, Mr. 
Sampson. 

{The others turn to her i7i surprise. Mrs. Allen speaks to 
Henry.) 

Mrs. a. You told me you were ill with rheumatism 
Thursday night. This creature s3}-s you were absent in the 
woods. 

Henry {after a moment of embarrassed silence). I told 
an untruth. 

Clement. What's this? A white lie? 

Henry {hesitating slightly, but very calm). 'Twas an 
affair of honor. 

Mrs. A. A duel? 

Devilliers. We've heard no such gossip. 

Henry. A matter — in which — I respected the bond of 
secrecy demanded by my assailant. 

Clement. Spoken like a gentleman. 

Mrs. H. What was it about ? A woman, of course. 

Henry. It arose from my love for — {he hesitates). 

Mrs. a. {going to Henry and putting her arm through 
his, affectionately). Say no more, Henry dear. It was that 
nasty Colonel Saunders, who said of me 

Mrs. H. {interrupting, maliciously). That he 'made war 
with gun powder, you with face powder. 

Mrs. a. {to Henry). And you avenged me ? Oh, how 
sweet. And your poor hand is wounded, not rheumatic? 

Henry. Yes. 'Tis a wound. {He leaves her.) 

Mrs. a. {iviping her eyes). And I admire you the more 
for it, dear. {She turns to Clement.) This is quite irresistible. 

{Caesar appears in the door on the left. He salutes.) 



37 

Caesar. Miss' Henderson, dat j'bung lady am in de 
hall, and says 

Mrs. H. Shameful ! I quite forgot her. (^She goes to 
the door and calls. ^ Come in here, dear. {She then turns to 
the company}) Let me introduce my niece. 

{Ruth Weldin appears in the doorway. She still wears 
her Qjiaker garb. Henry, zvho has see7i her through the open 
door, turns his back to her, and seems to be looking at papers 
on the table.') 

Devilliers {aside, to Clement). My Dresden china. 

Mrs. H. {introducing Ruth), Mrs. Allen, Colonel 
Clement, Lieutenant Devilliers. [Devilliers kisses Ruth's 
hand.) 

Clement {to Ruth). Lieutenant Devilliers already wor- 
ships at your shrine, Mistress. 

{Ruth slowly withdraws her hand from Dcvilliets' . She 
is looking toward Henry ^ 

Ruth. And this gentlemen? {Sarcastically.) There is 
something familiar about — his back. 

{Henry slowly turns to Rutli, who starts back in great 
surprise^ 

Ruth. Mr. Culbertson ! 

Clement. No, Sampson. 

Mrs. H. You know him? 

Ruth {joyfully going toivard Hejiry, with outstretched 
hands). Know him? Is he not my best friend ? 'Twasbut 
last Thursday I met him {Her zvords and action are sus- 
pended by the lack of recognition on Henry' s part.) 

Henry {coldly). I have not the pleasure of the lady's 
acquaintance. 

Ruth [puzzled). Surely — ^you were at Valley Forge? 

Devilliers, Impossible! {He places his hand 07t 
Clement's arm, with a look of suspicions inqidry.) 

Henry {to Ruth). I have never been in Valley Forge, 
mistress. 

Mrs. A. How could he be there? Mr. Sampson was 
arranging a duel over me. 



38 

Ruth (to Henry). You acted like a Tory — the Rebel 
colonel arrested, searched, cross-questioned you. I helped 
you escape — bandaged your hand with my kerchief. See, 
'tis wounded. 

Henry {lightly^. Scratched in the duel this lady 
speaks of. 

Clement (gaily). A coincidence, that is all. Such 
cases frequently happen. I knew two men once so much 
alike that — but no matter. 

Henry [Laughing, and making a desperate effort to 
seem light-hearted). Precisely. What a tale for the mess. 
Lieutenant. 'Twill out-thrill the story books. Behold 
Dromio of Ephesus, in rags at — what is the name of the 
place ? Ah yes, Vallet's Forge — intriguing with a pretty 
Quaker Dulcinea, who makes love, perhaps, bandages his 
hand, gets him out of hot water, in short, champions her bold 
knight as did fair damosels in the days, when — such things 
were the fashion, (laitghing with others.) And here — at the 
same day, hour and moment, Dromio of Syracuse — or Ger- 
mantown — sits in your drawing-room, dances at your routs, 
drinks tea, spars with compliments. (Laughs). Impossible, 
is it not? 

Clement (to Ruth). The only explanation. 

(Hcn)y turns down the stage at fight, his face distorted 
with pain. Mrs. Allen seizes his arm, anxiously.) 

Henry (whispering to Mrs. Allen). Get me out of 
this. I burn in Hell's fire. 

Mrs. a. (latighing). Yes ! Yes ! Very true. (Cross- 
ing to Ruth.) You must be convinced of your mistake now. 
(Ruth gazes at Mrs. Allen tvith instinctive jealoiisy, and turns 
from her. Mrs. Allen approaches the wijidoiu.) Dear me, 
dusk is falling. I'll not have time to dress for dinner. 

(Henry follows her tozuard the windoiv.) 

Clement. You'll come to the ball, Harry? 

Henry (hesitating). I 

Devilliers (with meaning). Nay, Sampson. You 
must. 



39 

Mrs. a. [at the ivindozv). Of course he will. Hurry, 
Harry dear. Do you know what dressing means? 

Henry. {pausi7ig before Ruth). If I have pained you, 
mistress 

Ruth [coldly). I — now I know you are not he. 

Henry. Then as a stranger. 

Ruth. Yes. A stranger 



Henry. Let me hope I may prove worthy of this other, 
whom you picture in your thoughts. 

Mrs. A. Will you ?zifz/£rr come ? I'm going. [She exits 
through the window.) 

Henry {gaily). See, Colonel, what it means to be a 
beau. [He has reached the tvindow, and boivs and doffs his hat 
with elaborate ceremony). Mrs. Henderson — Colonel — Lieu- 
tenant — [He gases a moment toward Ruth in regretful farewell 
and exits through the window ^^ 

Ruth. Oh ! Oh ! [She turns quickly toward the win- 
dow^ The)^ are like lovers. 

Mrs. H. Lovers ? [Laughing?) I should say so. 

Clement. As good as betrothed. 

Ruth. But who is he ? 

Mrs. H. Mr. Sampson? No one knows e.xactly. A 
young Royalist from Virginia — the protegee and suitor of 
Dollie Allen 

Clement. A fearless whip — reckless at cards — an ex- 
cellent dancer 

Ruth [jealously) Her suitor — her suitor 



Mrs. H. Why dwell upon it Ruth? [Fortdly.) Come to 
m\' room — I have the bravest frock for you to-night. 

[Ruth turns to Mrs. Henderson, then runs to her arms as 
if for comfort and protection). 

Ruth. Dear aunt ! Dear aunt ! 

Mrs. 'H. [caressing Rtith) Poor child. You are fatigued, 
travel-worn, distraught. Come. 

[Mrs. Henderson and Ruth exeunt on the left.) 

[As the door closes behind them, Clement turns sharply to 
Devilliers.) 



40 

Clement (anxioicsly). Lieutenant ! 
Devilliers (carelessly). Colonel]? 
Clement. If Sampson should be — 



DEV^LLERS. An ugly thought, an ugly word, you admit 
'twas a coincidence. 

Clement. But three coincidences ! 

Devilliers {surprised). Three? 

Clement. The lie about his absence 

Devilliers. And the recognition by this maid. That's 
two. 

Clement {advancing to fireplace). Read the proclama- 
tion describing Martin's assailant. {He sits before the fireplace^ 

{Devilliers takes the proclamation from the table and reads ^ 

Devilliers. "The man who acted as leader in the as- 
sault was — " {Here follow with a detailed description of 
Henry' s appearance.) Marvellously alike ! What do you 
propose ? Arrest him ? 

Clement. Not so fast. He might prove an alibi, make 
us the laughing stock of the camp. 

Devilliers. But stand idle? 

Clement. Far from it. {He stirs among the ashes of the 
fireplace zvith his cane.) First make sure, and meanwhile 
allay suspicion. Call Harris, will you? {Devilliers strikes a 
Chinese gong on the table). In other words, with every item 
of proof Sampson must receive a fresh assurance of his safety. 

{Harris enters from the library.) 

Clement, {speaking with his eyes intent upon the fireplace). 
Tell Captain Delancey to detail three of his agents to investi- 
gate Henry Sampson's movements for the past - fortnight. 
They must be thorough, expeditious, but above all secret. I 
want a report to-night. Go. {Harris exits quickly. Clement 
picks several fragments of partly burned paper out of the fire- 
place). Hum ! 

Devilliers. A fourth coincidence. 

Clement. No, a certainty. The list of troops was on 
blue paper. The fragments he burned were white — and 
blank. 



41 

Devilliers. You still hesitate ? 

Clement (^putting the fragments of paper in his pocket). 
Yes, until Delancey reports. Go to the Provost. Tell him 
to keep Sampson under constant surveillance. If he attempts 
to leave the camp, arrest him. {^Devi/Hers, seizing his hat and 
cloak, starts for the zvindow. Clement detains him) Stop at 
his lodgings. Pay his hostess doubly for the poultry. Learn 
from her all you can. 

{^Devilliers salutes and exits through the window.) 

Clement {after a moment of reflectioti). What did he 
say ? "A spy is a huntsman who pursues victims less intel- 
ligent than himself." Hum ! We'll see who is the less intel- 
ligent, my young friend. 

{The dusk has gradually fallen and the room is now 
enshrouded iti gloom.) 

{Caesar enters on the left, ivith a lighted taper.) 

Caesar. Dinner am ready, sah. 

Clement. I come at once. 

{Clement crosses. As he docs so, Cloe enters also bearing 
a taper. She salutes as Cleviejit passes her and exits) 

Caesar. Considerin' de time I hab learned yo', Cleo- 
patra, you does de tictacs remarkably well. 

Cloe. Go long, you black niggah. 

{During the folloimng, Caesar prepares the room for the 
dance, pushing the furniture back against the tvalls, arranging 
the chairs in rows, rolling up the rug, etc. Cloe lights cande- 
labra and tapers in wall sconces, and finally mounts upon a 
chair to kindle the candles in the cliandelier at the center of the 
apartT>unt.) 

Caesar. Say, Cloe, does you know what Miss' Chews' 
Penelope toF me? 

Cloe. Don' com aroun' telling you' ole wife what dese 
yere black wenches say. I's entitled to more respec'. 

Caesar. Oh, dis ain't nothin'. 

Cloe. Well, what she say ? 

Caesar. I ain't go' in ter tell you now. 

Cloe. Come 'long. I'se jest foolin'. 



42 

Caesar {jn a voice of awe). Well, Penelope says, says 
she, dat a niggah from up de country tol' her, dat dis yere 
General Washingboard 

Cloe. VVashingtown. Think of scrubbin' Germantown. 

Caesar. Don't try none of you' book larnin' on me, 
Cleopatra Henderson. 

Cloe. Go 'long ! What dis yere niggah from up de 
country say ? 

Caesar. Dat dis yere General Scrubbing Germantown. 

Cloe. VVashingtown. 

Caesar [angrily). Dis yere General What-yo'call- 
him and his so'jus — [with a voice of aive) — ate — black — nig- 
gahs. 

Cloe [greatly frightened). Lo'd help us! 

Caesar [grinning). An' thought niggah meat mos' as 
good as roast beef. 

Cloe [who is sceptical). Den why didn't dey eat dis 
up-country niggah ? 

Caesar. Oh, he's a conjurer, he is. If dey comes 
here 

[Cloe approaches Caesar with determination.) 

Cloe [grasping his arm). Say you Caesar Hender- 
son, jes' you gibe me you' witch charm dis instant. 

Caesar. I wants it myself. 

Cloe. So dp I. [She shakes him.) Am I you' true 
an' lawful wife, or ain't I? [Shakijig him). 

Caesar. Of co's j'ou is, honey. [Cloe shakes him.) He 
takes the charm from his pocket and gives it to her, the?i is sud- 
denly seized zuith a great fear.) But ef dey catches me first? 

Cloe. 'Ain't we married? Derefore one? It'll do for 
both. 

Sentinel [outside of the 'window). Who goes there ? 

[Cloe runs up to the window and peeps ot(t.) 

Cloe. Foh de Lord ! Dere's a man acomin' in heah. 

[Henry enters quickly through the window.) 

Henry [to Cloe). Ask Miss Weldin to see me — at 
once. [He gives Cloe money.) The others need not know. 



43 

Cloe (sahiting.) Yes sah — I mean, no sah. (^She 
exits on the left?) 

{Henry goes to the fireplace and stirs amongst the ashes.) 

Henry {with a sigh of relief). Completely burned. 

Caesar {advancing). Did you lose anything, sah? 

Henry {gaily). Nothing. Nothing. {He gives money 
to Caesar.) Find Cloe. Tell her to put this with rny other 
keepsake. Go ! 

{Caesar pockets the money, then bozvs almost to the ground.) 

Caesar. I always knows you was a gentleman {grinning?) 
Yes, sah {crossing). Yes, sah. {He exits on the left, saluting.) 

{As Caesar crosses, Ruth enters on left, and- advances. 
Henry goes to meet her.) 

Henry {gaily). My excuse for this intrusion 

Ruth {coldly). Is my mistake in your identity ? 

{Henry takes from his pocket Ruth's handkerchief, used in 
Act I, and hands it to her.) 

Henry. Is to return this. {Smiling, he watches Ruth's 
face. 

Ruth {glancing at the handkerchief, then iiito Henry' s 
face, and taking a step toward him.) Henry! {She stops, 
gazes again at the handkerchief, her expression changing to one 
of dotibt, then coldness and anger?) 

Henry. Ruth ? 

Ruth. Your denial of a moment since? {She hesitates.) 
It was 

Henry {bi-avely). I lied. 

Ruth {looking at the handkerchief tvith rising anger). As 
I wound this about your hand but yester-night, I thought 
you true and noble — I gazed into your face as that of the 
man I loved — mine only, and only mine 

Henry. Hush. {He glatices nervously about him). We 
must still seem as strangers. 

Ruth. Oh, I know ! I know ! {She throws the handker- 
chief petulantly from her.) Still strangers! For the best of 
reasons. 

Henry. I cannot explain. 



44 

Ruth {^oery angry). You need not ! You need not! 
Explanations are written in every action. You thought I 
would not meet you here — see you the suitor, the accepted 
lover of another woman. 

Henry {in agony). Ruth ! No ! No ! 

Ruth {fiercely). This — Mrs. Allen ? 

Henry, Have you so little faith ? 

Ruth. Yxaw& your faith. Deny her before them all — 
if you can. {She pauses, Henry is silent^ It is the truth ! 

Henry. Listen, Ruth. I love none but you. 

Ruth. No other woman ? 

Henry. None but you. 

Ruth. You love me before all else in the world — even 
life itself ? 

Henry {after a moment of hesitation, and sadly). No, 
there is another love, before which all else is sacrificed, even 
life itself. Beside this other, your cruel words, your taunts, 
your friendship, — even your love are as naught. 

Ruth. You break my heart. {Burying her face in her 
hands, she throws herself upon the settle.) 

Henry {tenderly, and approaching her). Some day you 
will know, it cannot be now. But believe me — oh, think of 
me as your lover still. One who, entangled in the meshes of 
Fate, must do all, suffer all for a great end. This other is a 
thing apart from my love for you. Neither can change. 
Both are as fixed as the firmament. 

Ruth. Set my heart at rest. Tell me your secret? 

Henry {after a moment of hesitation). I must be silent. 
{A slight pause.) Within the hour I leave Germantawn, per- 
haps never to return. I came to ask, for the sake of our old 
friendship — of my love— to li\'e as if they had never been. 
Deny our meeting — if you value my life. 

Ruth. Deny this other, if you value my love. 

Henry. I cannot. I zvill not. 

Ruth. You kill my love. Give me back the talisman. 

Henry {taking his coin and chain from his bosom, and 
extending it toivdrd her). Oh, feeble love ! {Rjith rises and 



45 

iums as if to take it, but Hetiry replaces the trinket resolutely in 
his bosoni). No, you shall not, until you know. 

Ruth {angrily). Coward ! Farewell. {She rushes off' 
at the left). 

Henry [looking after her, sadly). Farewell, beloved. 

{He my turns up to the windoiv, and is coiif routed by 
Devilliers, who is standing between the curtains. HeJiry is 
taken completely by surprise, and shows his anxiety during the 
following). 

Devilliers. I congratulate you, Harry. 

Henry. Upon what? 

Devilliers. The quick journey you made {hesitates 
slightly) in returning for dinner. {Advancing, he sees the 
handkerchief Ruth has thrown aside. He picks it up.) A lady's 
kerchief? {Looks in the coi ner of the handkerchief ) " R. W." 
Ah, it belongs to Mistress Ruth, {gaily) A charming little 
maid, Harry. I'm head over heels in lo\e already. 

Henry {in desperation). I — I do not know her. 

Devilliers. Of course not. Else I shouldn't be so 
frank. {Looking at the handkerchief .) What's this ? Blood? 
Ah ! Ver}' interesting. {He looks at Henry searchingly). 

Henry {approaching Devilliers with the boldness of 
despair). What do you mean ? 

Devilliers (/a//^/«'«_o-). Nothing. What ails you? Come, 
a srlass of wine with the ladies. 

Henry {approaching the window). I'll take the air. 

Devilliers {intercepting him). Come with me. 

{Devilliers' words are fraught zuith significance, and after 
a quick look into his face, Henry shrugs his shoulders and obeys. 
They approach the door on the left, zvlien Mrs. Henderson enters 
in a ball dress, closely followed by Caesar, zvho carries a fiddle. 
Clement brings tip the rear.) 

Mrs. H. {as she enters). "The Soldier's Peril ? " Cer- 
tainly I'll play it, Colonel, if I can find the music. {She goes 
to the harpsichord.) 

Clement. It makes a capital minuet. 

Mrs. H. Do you know it, Caesar? 



46 

Caesar (timing the fiddle). I plays mos' eberything, 
Missus. 

Clement {shaking hands with Henr)>). Ah, Harry, glad 
you won't disappoint us. Completely recovered from your 
adventure with Mistress Ruth ? 

Henry (/rt?c^/«';zo-). Absurd, was it not? {He zvatches 
Clement, doubtfully.) 

Clement. I knew at once it could not be you. 

Mrs. H. Pshaw ! {looking about her). Where is that 
music ? 

Clement {to Henry, patting him playfully on the back). 
A lady in distress. Let us to the rescue. 

{Clement and Henry join Mrs. Henderson at the harpsi- 
chord. Devtlliers has gone to the fireplace^ 

Mrs. H. Here it is. {She sits at the harpsichord.) If 
you'll hold it in place, Mr. Sampson. {Henry arranges the 
music on the rack of the harpsichord. Air. Henderson begins 
to play.) 

Mrs. H. Now listen, Caesar. 

Caesar. Yes, um. 

{Clement has approached Devilliers at the fireplace. They 
converse in pantomime, watching Henry fiirtively?) 

Clement. Wait till Delancey reports. In the mean- 
time, he must not leave our sight. 

{A door knocker sounds in the distance 07i the left.) 

Mrs. H. {rising from the harpsichord). 1 he guests ! 
Run, Caesar. Quickly. 

{As Caesar approaches the door on the left, Cloe enters, 
walking backward, and speaking to Ruth, outside^ 

Cloe. Jes' come right in, Miss Ruth. 

Ruth {outside the door). But I can't get in. 

Mrs. H. Try it backwards, Ruth, dear. 

{Ruth enters backwards, because of the large hoop of the 
elaborate ball dress she wears. Her hair is 07 ranged i?i a 
towering head-dress, tvound with pearls and a ivreatli of roses?) 

Mrs. H. {sunieying Ruth). Beautiful ! Beautiful ! 

Ruth {turning around). I feel like a balloon. 



47 

Mrs. H. The latest fashion in London, my dear. 

Clement. The head-dress, too. 

Ruth. Like a head cheese. 

(The guests begin to arrive. They include civilians and 
women in gay apparel, and soldiers in uniform. They bozv or 
curtsey to Mrs. Henderson in the background. Henry stands 
besides Mrs. Henderson, Clement keeps him under surveillajtce. 
Mrs. Allen enters and salutes Mts. Henderson.) 

{Devilliers advances with Ruth.) 

Devilliers. Before I left London, I saw Queen Char- 
lotte in such a dress. 

Ruth {laughing). Compare me with royalty ? 

Devilliers. There is no comparison. You are more 
beautiful. 

Ruth. Oh! {She turns from him embarrassad, tries to 
take a seat, but the hoops spring up in front. With a cry, she 
rises.) 

Devilliers. Her Royal Highness 

Ruth {vexed). Never sits, I suppose. 

Devilliers. You should take it thus. {He approaches 
very close to her and takes hold of her dress.) 

Ruth {tapping his hand angrily with her fan until he 
releases tlie garmcnf). I prefer to stand. 

Devilliers {apologetically). A reasonable courtesy. 
Mistress. {Wliisperi7ig fondly). And very sweet. 

Ruth {laughing). You would have me believe ? 

Devilliers. It comes from my heart of hearts. 

Ruth. And mine is arrow proof 

Devilliers. In war resistance makes men fight more 
persistently. 

Ruth. In war, perhaps ; but not in love. 

Devillers. Love is war. 

{Ruth's attention has been attracted by a group on the op- 
posite side of the room, consisting of Mrs. Allen, Henry and 
Clement. Ruth observes them jealously, then turns to Devilliers 
and encourages his love making.) 



48 

Ruth {gaily). And you besiege a woman's heart, know- 
ing full well that, sooner or later, she must surrender ? 

Devilliers. Then you are not arrow-proof? 

Ruth. Am I not a woman ? {She gives Devilliers her 
hand. He courts her in pantomime.') 

Mrs. a. {to Clement). My friendship for Henry ? 'Tis 
easily explained. He is a brave man, Colonel, the brave 
son of my schoolmate, my dearest friend. How warm it is 
here, close by the fire. My fan. {She looks about for her 
fan.) Pshaw, I left it on the harpsichord. Will you get 
it, Colonel? 

Clement {rising). With pleasure. {He starts to go to- 
ward the harpsichord, then attracts Devilliers' attention, and 
■motions him to watch Henry. Devilliers nods in assent. Clement 
goes to the harpsichord^ 

Mrs. a. (in an undertone to Henry). Why did you not 
go at once ? 

Henry. And endanger you as well as myself? No, I 
will elude them during the dance. 

Mrs. a. Dear boy, adieu. My prayers go with you. 

{Mrs. Henderson advances, bustling among the guests.) 

Mrs. H. We're all here now. Come! Come! Choose 
your partners. Ruth, you will dance with Lieutenant Devil- 
liers — Dollie Allen 

Mrs. a. Thank you, no, Sophie dear. 

{Ruth and Devilliers take their positions for the dance. 
The other guests have done so, standing z« a double row down the 
center of the stage, the men on one side, the women on the other. 
The dance begins, music being furnished by Mrs. Henderson, at 
the harpsichord, and Caesar, with his fiddle. The dance is a 
lively " Virginia Reel.") 

{Devilliers and Clement, the latter on the left, do not take 
their eyes from Henry, who, during the dance, bids farewell to 
Mrs. Allen, kisses her hand, then strolls up the room, convers- 
ing with several ''sitters out.") 

{Cloc enters on the left, and whispers a message to Clement. 
He rises.) 



49 

Clement. Pardon, ladies and gentlemen. Lieutenant 
Devilliers is summoned. ( Whispering to Devilliers.) Delan- 
cey ! 

Devilliers. (Turning to the dancers). A thousand 
excuses. It is unavoidable. {He exits quickly on the left.) 

Mrs. H. But break up the dance ? 

Clement. Madame, if my poor services will suffice ? 
(He moves toward the dancers, then wijices with pain.) I for- 
get. My injured knee. 

Mrs. H. (rising from the harpsichord). This is a 
shame. 

Clement (itirning to Henry, who has reached the win- 
dow). Here is Harry Sampson — a good dancer without a 
partner. 

Henry. If I may decline 

Mrs. H. I will not hear of it. 

Several Women. Oh, yes ! Dance ! Do ! Please ! 

[Henry advances and takes Devilliers' place. The dance 
proceeds^ 

(Devilliers enters qtiickly zvith a paper in his hand. He 
says a word excitedly to Clement.) 

Clement (springing to his feet). Arrest him. 

(Devilliers seizes Henry, who throws him off and makes a 
dash toward the window. Several men seize him. The dancers 
are throzvn into confiision.) 

Several Women. An arrest ? 

Ruth. For what ? 

Devillers. He is a Rebel spy. 

All. a spy ? 

Ruth. A spy? A spy ! (She staggers slightly, then 
holds ont her hands and takes a step toward Hemy, appealitigly. 
Her action is arrested, as, with a scream, she falls upon the 
floor at his feet.) 

END OF second ACT. 



so 



THE THIRD ACT. 

Mrs. Henderson' s garden. The same night. This old- 
fashioned enclosure is a verdant, retired spot, iji which riotous 
nature has made a conquest over man' s efforts at primness and 
regularity. The box-bordered walks and formal horticultural 
designs, that were the fashio7i of the time, are overgrown with 
a wild tangle of vines and blossoms. Trees and shrubberies 
form dense screens on either hand. On the left att open, 
gravelled space, forming part of a circle, with a sun-dial in the 
centre. To the left of this a bench, beneath the canopy of a 
weeping willow-tree. Back of the gravelled semi-circle, several 
rude steps of unwrought stones carry a path up to and through 
an arch-like arbor, thickly covered with wild grape vines. Box 
hedges border the semi-circle and the path that extends from it 
across the garden to an entrance on the right, approached by 
two more stone steps. 0?i the right, near the center, another 
tree with a garden seat beneath it. Passing through the arbor 
the path leads back among the shrubberies to anotlier entrance 
near the upper right-hand corner of the enclosure. The inter- 
ve7iing spaces are filled with foliage and blossoms. The garden 
lies on the edge of a sharp declivity, so that, as one gazes beyond 
it, the prospect ends in an expanse of sky, luminous with the 
moonbeams and stars. Among the flowers blooming by the 
gravelled semi-circle is a yellow acacia. The moojdight finds 
its way through the foliage from the right, falling in mottled 
patches of brilliance. 

As the scene is disclosed, Ruth a7id Devilliers are seen 
advancing through the arbor. The girl still wears her ball 
dress, and seems excited and distrauglit: 

Ruth. 'Twas nothing. The night air will revive me. 

Devilliers. Strange that you should be overcome. 

Ruth. The excitement, surprise, horror of an arrest. 
You took him ? 

Devilliers. He should be at the jail by this time. 

Ruth. Sampson is not a spy. I'm sure of it. 



51 

Devilliers. Our proofs are absolute. His absence at 
Valley Forge 

Ruth. It may not have been he. 

Devilliers. He stole the list of troops. 

Ruth. 'Tis easy to explain. Is he not an honest man ? 

Devilliers. Bah ! A scoundrel as desperate as his 
cause. 

Ruth. Be merciful ! What would it mean to you, 
were you in his place? 

Devilliers {laughing). Impossible ! 

Ruth. Is he not your brother, — sprung from the same 
race, — the same blood in your veins, — you and he? 

Devilliers. Pshaw ! What care I ? War is my 
trade. Small matter whom I fight, if there are enemies to 
vanquish, — and kill. 

Ruth {after a sigfi). And his fate ? , 

Devilliers. But one end awaits a spy. 

Ruth {looking into his face anxiously). Death ? {De- 
villiers nods.) Oh, horrible ! {She withdraws from him, 
very sadly}) 

{A distant shout is heatd, followed by others, in rapid 
succession. Ruth turns to Devilliers in anxious inquiry.) 

Ruth. What is that? 

Devilliers. Soldiers, carousing among themselves. 
{Gaily.) Come, let us forget, — or remember only our happi- 
ness. 

Ruth. My happiness ? 

Devilliers. I am very happy, — {significantly,) — being 
near you. 

Ruth. You can be happy 

Devilliers. When woman is nigh. Where else do 
men find Heaven upon earth ? {He describes Ruth during 
the following sentences, although Ruth does not seem to appre- 
ciate the personal application of Ids words, and stands, turned 
partly from him, idly pluckitig the blossoms of the acacia}) 
In her is all beauty, appeals to every sense, — the glory of her 
hair, redolent with a faint perfume, the satin cheek, the lips, 



52 

— an everlasting invitation, — the rounded arm, the heaving 
bosom, sweet as the blossoms she is placing there. 

Ruth (looking at the acacia, pensively). Golden acacia? 
Wet with the dew, that has heightened its fragrance. 

Devilliers. As woman's tears add to her beauty. 
They remind me of home, mistress. 

Ruth {softl}^. Home ? 

Devilliers. I see an old garden, like this, — trim walks, 
arbors, a dial, and, on a sunny bench, an ancient dame nursing 
a little child, telling him fairy tales, conning the names of 
flowers, teaching him their language. "This yellow acacia," 
says she, "is symbol of a secret love." 

Ruth. Because 'tis sweet. (She buries her face in the 
acacia blossoms}) 

Devilliers. As secret love. 

Ruth (dreamily). Yes, sweet as secret love, — (bitterly) 
until the awakening. 

Devilliers. Need there be awakening ? Once love is 
gained, 'tis for all time. 

Ruth. No, no, — 'till the awakening. 

Devilliers (with the air of a lover). Oh, could those 
blossoms cast a magic spell, — keep warm your heart for one 
who 

Ruth. Denied me. 

Devilliers. Nay — he speaks 



Ruth. Words — words. And what are words? The 
lover seems a hero, an image cherished for years in woman's 
heart. He comes, her soul leaps with ecstacy, he whispers 
soft nothings, thrills with a touch, a kiss, a glance, — Searches, 
searches, with eyes that utter more than lips, into her heart 
of hearts, and there he reads, she knows not how, that she is 
his. (Sadly.) And then? Too late she learns that he's not 
her's alone, that there's another, dearer than herself, Too 
late ! Too late ! (She gazes at the acacia in her hand.) 
Acacia? Secret love? Nay, let me weave marigold with 
this — for jealousy. And yew, for my despair. (She flings 
the acacia blossoms from her.) 



53 

Devilliers. Jealousy? Despair? This is eternal love, 
the heart is undefiled. Oh, mistress, mine are not hollow 
words, 

Ruth {turning to hiin in surprise). You ? 

Devilliers. Is not mine that love ? 

Ruth. I meant not Forgive me. I knew not your 

intent. 

Devilliers. You led me to believe 

Ruth. At first, perhaps. If you knew why, you would 
forgive. I never let you hope. {After a slight pause}) I 
cannot love you. {SIic leaves hini). 

Devilliers (^following her). Love need not wait on 
acquiescence. 

Ruth. No. No. It is impossible. {She turns upon 
him sharply.) Think of the barriers — you, a stranger in this 
land 

Devilliers. A trifle. {He approaches her^ 

Ruth. Your ties across seas — a sweetheart, a wife per- 
haps. 

Devilliers, A wife ? No, I come empty-handed. My 
love's for you, — alone. {He seizes her hand.) 

Ruth. {Withdrawing her hand.) You came to fight, 
not find a wife. 

Devilliers. Did not Mars love ? 

Ruth. A truce, I implore you. 

Devilliers. I'll take nought but surrender. {He 
again approaches her ; she evades hijn.) 

Cloe. {Calling in the disiance, on the right.) Miss 
Ruth ! Miss Ruth ! 

Ruth {calling). Cloe ! Here ! 
{Cloe enters on the right, running and greatly excited}) 

Cloe. Oh, oh. Miss Ruth. Come to de house — you'll 
be shot. {She gasps for breath. Distant shouts are heard}) 
Dey're coinin' down de street, running an' yellin'. {Gasping 
for breath.) 

Devilliers {greatly excited}^. An attack ? {Cloe at- 



54 

tempts to speak, as she gasps for breath. Devilliers seizes her 
roughly by the arm.) Tell me ! 

Cloe. I — I can't jest say. Dey're yellin' de name of 
this yere Sampson 

Ruth. Sampson ? 

{Distant shouts are heard.) 

[Sergeant O' Leary enters on the right. He is an Irish- 
man and speaks with a brogue}^ 

O' Leary (to Devilliers). Lieutenant ! Sampson has 
escaped ! 

Ruth {with great Joy). Escaped ? 

Devilliers. Where ? How ? Quickly, man ! 

O' Leary. Passing the meeting-house, he turned upon 
us, seized a gun, fought like mad, leaped the graveyard wall. 
Carey is dead, I think — and 

Devilliers. Which way did he go ? 

O'Leary. I know not. 

Devilliers {to Ruth). I must join them, mistress. At 
some time to come 

Ruth {with exaltation). No ! 'Tis not a truce, but a 
victory. I will never consent. 

{Devilliers looks at her a moment, then smiles bitterly}) 

Devilliers. We shall see ! {To 0' Leary.) Come. 

{Devilliers and 0' Leary hurry off on the right.) . 

Cloe {throwing het arms aroimd Ruth's waist and look- 
ing nervously on either hand). Oh, Miss Ruth, Fse so scared. 

Ruth {happily). He has escaped. 

Cloe. Dat's jest it. Do you think he'll come heah ? 

Ruth {with sudden joy). Here? {Then sadly ^ No 
he'll go to the North, toward the outposts. 

Cloe. 'Cause if he comes heah dere's no tellin' what 
might happen. Fse most awful afraid of Rebels. 

Ruth {crossing to the left). Why ? He won't eat you. 

Cloe. I ain't so shuh of dat. 

{Henry appears among the shrubberies on the left, flings 
his chain and talisman in front of Ruth and disappears im- 



55 

mediately among the verdure. Ruth, with a cry, kneels and 
picks up the talisman, lookitig toward the shrubberies^ 

Cloe. What's dat ? 

Ruth {dissembling). I dropped my locket. {She rises, 
kissing the talisman with emotion.) 

{Mrs. Allen enters quickly on the right.) 

Mrs. Allen. Miss Ruth ! Come ! The searchers are 
nearing the house. 

Ruth {coldly). I thank you. {She turns to Cloe) Let 
us go. But presently I will return. {She is gazing toivard 
the shrubberies where Henry stands concealed) I will return. 
{She passes with Cloe through the arbor and across to the right, 
disappearing among the shrubberies. As she retires Ruth 
sings the love verses used in Act /.) 

Mrs. a. {watching them as they go). The hussy ! Almost 
as impudent as her aunt. She deserves the penalty of inso- 
lence — a birch stick at the whipping-post. 

{Henry advances from the shrubberies, disclosing Imnself to 
Mrs. Allen.) 

Mrs. a. {in alarni). Henry ! 

Henry. Hush. 

Mrs. a. This terrible danger. 

Henry. I know 

Mrs. a. Go. 

Henry. I must explain. 

Mrs. a. No time for explanations. The pursuers are 
too near. 

Henry. I could not go until slie knew, this woman I 
love. 

Mrs. a. {pensively, and turning from him). Does she 
not know ? 

Henry. Too little, and too much. I sacrificed her 
love. She now knows why. But I seemed to claim the 
affections of another. That must be explained — forgiven. 

Mrs. a. I do not understand. 

Henry. I trust to you 

Mrs. a. Me ? 



56 

Henry. You — my friend. 

Mrs. a. Your mother was my school-girl confidant. 

For her, I welcomed, introduced you — became your [she 

hesitates aud stops. ^ 

Henry. Guardian angel. 

Mrs. a. (shrugging her shoulders, and withdrawing 
slightly from hint). Yes, if you like. But angels seem 
chilly to me. Heaven must be so, when one thinks of the 
alternative. 

Henry. Then, — my patron saint. 

Mrs. a. • Religion again. [Sadly.) And heart chill. 
(She laughs bitterly and turns to him.) What shall I do? 

(Ruth reappears among the shrubberies at the back, arid 
moves forward briskly until she sees Henry and Mrs. Allen. 
Then she stops and zvatches them from the shrubberies.) 

Henry. Make her mindful of all that lies between us. 
How much 

Mrs. A. (bitterly). And little? 

Henry. Yes. 

Mrs. a. What need ? We both know. 

Henry. But she does not. 

Mrs. a. She? 

Henry. This woman I love. 

(Mrs. Allen glances into his face a moment, then, with a 
sigh, turns from him. Doing so, she catches sight of Ruth. 
The woman and girl gaze upon each other as Henry proceeds^ 

Henry. I love ! Ah, in that little word lies worlds of 
joy, — and pain. We loved as children ; for years I saw her 
not, — we met at Valley Forge, renewed that sweet past. 
(Sadly.) And to-day, with her love burning in my heart, — 
I denied her. She thinks 'tis you. 

Ruth (advancing). She knows 'tis not. 

Henry. Ruth ! 

( The three stand for a moment silently, Ruth and Henry 
gazing upon each other, Mrs. Allen lookirig first at Henry, then 
toward Ruth. Mrs. Allen goes to thetn, takes Ruth's Jiatid 
and places Henry's ifi it, then slowly bends down and kisses 



57 

Henry's hand. After gazing a vtoment into Henry's face, she 
withdraws through the arbor and makes her way among the 
shrubberies toward the right. ) 

{Cloe enters at the back, quickly. Mrs. Allen i?iiercepts 
her, places her hand upon Cloe' s arm, and points to Ruth and 
Henry, enjoining silence upon Cloe zvith a gesture. The two 
women stand for a tnoment at the entrance, gazing upon the 
two lovers, Mrs. Allen very sadly, and Cloe amazed and terri- 
fied, as if beholditig an apparition. The lady and negress then 
disappear from view.) 

Ruth {throwing her arms around Henry's neck). At 
last ! My heart's at rest. 

Henry. And I live, — hope again. For you are here. 

Ruth. Can you forgive? My jealousy, cruel words, 
my bitter thoughts? 

Henry. Did they not prove your love ? 

Ruth. I groped in darkness. Then, your danger made 
all clear. Now, I'll set you free. (She leaves him, crossing 
toward the right}) Come. 

Henry. Free ? 

Ruth. A moment since, I learned all there was against 
you, — our meeting at Valley Forge, which I'll deny, the 
theft of some papers. 

Henry. A list of troops, {fie puts his hand to his 
bosom. ) 

Ruth. Aye. When that's explained, you will be free. 

Henry. But how explain ? 

Ruth. The weapon of honest men. Tell them the 
truth, that you did not take them. 

Henry. You think me innocent? 

Ruth. 1 knozv. How could I doubt, and still love? 
Why should you take the list? A good Tory 

Henry {slowly). I am not a Tory. 

Ruth. Not a Tory ? Then — {gradually realizing the 
trutli) it is true? You are a spy ? 

Henry. A spy? {Bitterly >j Yes. That is what they 
must call me. 



58 

{Ruth stands dazed a moment, then, the sequence of events 
shaping themselves in her mind, she understands all.) 

Ruth. Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! [She turns upon Henry with 
intense scorn.) A pretender ! A deceiver ! A cheat ! Learn- 
ing the secrets of others on which their lives depend — only 
to betray them. 

Henry. Listen ! In war 

Ruth (interrupting him). A traitor ! 

Henry; Not to my country. 

Ruth. But to ?«_/ king. {With intense scorn). And 
you ask mercy? You, whose whole life is a lie? 

Henry {protesting). I ask not mercy. _ Alone I waged 
this battle of deceit, alone I reap its fruits — conquest, or 
death. Yes. My whole life is a lie ! I admit it, without 
regret. I deceived you at Valley Forge, because the truth 
increased my danger. And now, since you know all, I ask 
not mercy, but forgiveness. 

Ruth. Your love for me is a lie, hke the rest? 

Henry. Well may you accuse me. Call me traitor, 
deceiver, cheat. Oh ! I know, I know, and regret not. But 
suffer? Often beyond endurance. Words of love, smiles of 
friendship, kindnesses that wring my heart. Demons haunt- 
ing my waking hours, peopling my dreams, whispering, 
always whispering, " False. False. Deceiver. Deceiver." 

Ruth. Then fight like a man. Be not a Judas in the 
camp of your enemies. 

Henry. Better a death-wound in battle, than the smiles 
of those I betray. And yet, I must. 

Ruth. But why? Oh, 'tis a mad dream. 

Henry. No. A sacrifice. 

Ruth. Giving your life for rioters — vagabonds ! What 
is more mad ? 

Henry {moved with intense patriotic devotion). I see 
starving men on a hillside, with garments in rags, their shoeless 
feet imprinting blood upon the snow. Traitors ? Vagabonds ? 
No ! They are men — fearless, steadfast, giving hfe for their 
cause. 



59 

Ruth. For these you would die ? 

Henry. No. For their land and mine. If they starve, 
so can I. If they die, so will I — that we, and our children, 
and our children's children may be free. 

Ruth. A heresy ! 

Henry. The right ! 

Ruth. Law, order, our King is right ! Renounce this 
madness and go free. 

Henry. And be a double traitor. (He draws the packet 
of blue paper from his pocket. ) See. 

Ruth. The missing paper? 

Henry. Yes. Upon this a battle depends. I secured 
it to-day, determined to make my copy, return the original 
unperceived, set forth within the hour, then 

Ruth. Then ? (After a moment of silent inquiry, she 
gives a startled cry and covers her face with her hands}) 'Tis- 
as vivid as the lightning. I came, recognized you ! Sus- 
picions were aroused 

Henry. The game was almost won. On the one hand 
my life 

Ruth. Your hfe? Oh, forgive me ! (sobbing) 

Henry. And on the other this (indicating paper). A 
signal for battle. 

Ruth. Let me make amends — undo the havoc I have 
wrought. 

Henry (cot/tforting- her). Havoc? Nay, I'm going to 
safety — success. Ruth? No! No! Be brave. Think! A 
few moments' crouching behind hedges and in the cornfields, 
a brush with the pickets, thence to the forest where my horse 
awaits me. Dearest I No more tears. You break my 
heart. Good-bye (he kisses her). Good-bye (he turns to go). 

Ruth. The dangers. 

Henry (smiling). Familiar companions. 

Ruth. Think of me. I love you. 

Henry (gazing fondly upon her). You tempt me be- 
yond reason. (Hesitates, then with sudden resolution?^ No ! 
No ! Farewell. 



6o 

(^He tears himself frovi her and acrosses to the left, 
then stops suddenly as a snapping of twigs is heard in the ad- 
jacent shrubberies. Ruth hurries to him anxiously ^^ 

YL'ENK'Y (whispering). Hush! {lie draws her quickly be- 
hind the willow-tree at left^ 

(Sergeafit O'Lcary and tivo English soldiers break through 
the shrubberies on the left. The two soldiers cross in the back- 
ground, thrusting their bayonets into the shrubberies and peer- 
ing amongst the shadows. G Leary does the same, advancing 
through the arbor. Then he turns, and calls with hand to 
mouthy 

O'Leary (calling). Oh — o — o ! 

Soldiers' Voices (in the distance, at right.) Oh — o — o ! 
(In the distafice, o?t the left!) Oh — o — o ! 

(O Leary resumes his search. He sees Ruth, and stops itt 
surprise.) 

O'Leary. Who's there? 

Ruth (advancing). 'Tis I — Ruth Weldin. 

O'Leary [saluting). The Lieutenant's lady. {Embar- 
rassed.) Sure, I forgot ye were here. I — I'm not intruding? 

Ruth. No. I — I came but to take the air. 

O'Leary. And drame. Ah, these swate colleens, these 
svvate colleens ! (Laughing softly.) Oft I've sat in the moon- 
light o'night's, yonder, over sea's, with her, draming, — an' — 

an' (he stops embarrassed.) Fain would Dennis O'Leary 

not trouble ye, miss, but we've nought else to search. 

Ruth. Only this garden? 

O'Leary. Aye! Here we find our game. 

Ruth. The spy ? 

O'Leary. Aye! Have ye ever been to the miller's, 
mistress, and seen those corn bags that close with a sthring ? 
{He illustrates with his hatids.) Even so we have this fellow. 

Closer and closer, smaller and smaller the hole, until 

{He is looking toward Ritth and sees Henrfs shadow beside 
the tree trunk. His expression suddenly changes, and he begins 
to raise his gun.) 

Ruth. What is it ? 



6i 

O'Leary. I thought I saw by the tree, yonder 

Ruth [looking toivard the tree). 'Tis nothing. 

O'Leary. No, 'tis gone. I must have" been dreaming. 
You know, mistress, when we want a thing to be, we think 
'tis so. 

Ruth. I know. [She turns from him to hide her face, 
which is blanched tvith terror.) 

O'Leary. I'll not trouble ye more. You'll go into the 
house, bye and bye, then we'll search here. 

Ruth [ciirtcsying). I thank you. {She extends her hand 
toward O'Leary, zvho makes a motion as if to kiss it, then 
pauses in embarrassment. Rnth slowly raises her hand 
until it touches his lips. 0' Leary draws back, greatly flatt etc d 
and pleased, and bows lozv, theti turns a?id retires through the 
arbor?) 

O'Leary {calling as before). Oh-o-o ! 

Soldiers' Voices"(»«7 near on the right). Oh — o — o ! 
( Very near on the left.) Oh — o — o ! 

{0' Leary passes from sight on the right.) 

{Henry advances from his place of concealment}) 

Ruth {greatly agitated, and going to hitn). They will 

Henry. It must be. 

Ruth. Your life? 

Henry. Is forfeit. Oh, that this sacrifice is not in vain. 

Ruth {in agotiy). Henry ! 

Henry. I forget. {Comforting her.) Be brave, dear- 
est, be brave. Think what I renounce. I've failed, — my 
mission's ended. The army, yonder among the hills, must 

wait in vain. As for these {He takes the packet of papers 

from his pocket.) all that is needed for a victory. — {He 

lifts his arm to throw the packet among the shntbheries.) 

Ruth {intercepting his intended action). All that lies 
between you and safety — {she takes the dispatches from his 
uplifted hand). 

Henry. Why did I not think? You will start them 
on their way ? Give them but to Mrs. Allen, and all is well. 

Ruth. They shall reach their destination. 



62 

Henry {embracing her). My heart is light again. (Then 
his manner suddenly changes}^ No ! No ! You become my 
accomphce. (He attempts to take the papers from her.) 

Ruth. They will not suspect me. 

Henry. You are a woman. 

Ruth (turning suddenly upon him)\ Would you do as 
much for me ? 

Henry. A thousand times ! 

Ruth. Then 'tis my right. A pledge of our love! 

Henry. You become equally guilty. 

Ruth. I care not. * 

Henry. A traitor to your King. 

Ruth. A traitor ? (She looks into Henry's face.) I am 
no traitor. You are my king. 

Devilliers (speaking in the distance on the right). Halt! 
(Henry and Ruth turn in apprehension.) 

Henry. Go. Go. 

Ruth. No — Here 

Henry., If taken with me, it means death. You must. 
(He points to the right. Ruth slowly advances in that direction. 
Henry withdrazt's into the arbor, the shadows of its foliage 
completely concealing him.) 

(Simidtaneously , Devilliers appears on the right with 
O'Leary.) 

Devilliers. The cordon is placed? 

O'Leary. Yes, sir. 

Devilliers. Then keep within earshot, to answer my 
signal. 

{O'Leary salutes and withdraws. Devilliers turfis and 
encozifiters Ruth, who has seated herself on the bench at the 
right.) 

Devilliers. Ah ! 

Ruth (^feigning indifference). You have returned ? 

Devilliers. The negress, searching for you, heard 
voices here. 

Ruth. Impossible. 

Devilliers. A man's voice. 



63 

' Ruth. I was alone, — dreaming in the moonlight — {she 
crosses) — was returning to the house. You will accompany 
me ?. 

Devilliers. My duty. 

Ruth. Duty ? Before my pleasure ? 

Devilliers. I must capture a spy. 

Ruth. Sampson ? He has escaped. 

Devilliers. He is here. {He slowly raises to his lips 
a whistle, whidi hangs snspe7ided by a cord about his neck, 
meanwhile watching Rttih intently.) 

Ruth {perceiving the action). What would you do? 

Devilliers. Summon my men. 

Ruth. He is not here ! He is not here ! 

Devilliers. The negress saw him. {He again puts the 
whistle to his lips.) 

Ruth {zvho seeks to delay his action). She was deceived. 
I would have seen him. {Pleading.) Listen. Listen. You 
must ! Sampson is not a spy. 

Devilliers. You are his chief accuser. At Valley 
Forge 



Ruth {interrupting). And I say — {hesitates, then boldly). 
It was not he. Your only other proof, the stolen papers 

Devilliers. Will send him to the gallows. 

Ruth. He did not take them. 

Devilliers {laughing). Who else ? 

Ruth. Myself. {She hands the packet to Devilliers.) 

Devilliers {after examining the packet a moment, and 
smiling). I did not expect such rich returns. My ruse 

Ruth {terrified). Ruse? 

Devilliers. Sought but to betray your love — for this 
spy. 

Ruth {feigning indifference). Love him ? Whom I met 
but once ? Absurd. {Forcing a laugh.) 

Devilliers. You do love him. And for that love dis- 
carded me 

Ruth. No ! No ! 



64 

Devilliers. And while your lips form that denial, 
your actions say — "I love, I love." 

Ruth. I told you nothing. 

Devilliers. Twice you betrayed it. First byjealoiisy, 
and now, through fear. 

Ruth (boldly). Yes, I love him with my whole heart 
and soul I love him. 

Devilliers. And to insure his safety will make another 
sacrifice. 

Ruth. Sacrifice ? 

Devilliers. I can be convinced that the negress lied — 
that Sampson is not here. 

Ruth. She is mistaken. I know it. 

Devilliers. / believe he is here. You can persuade 
me to the contrary. In that event I abandon the search. 

Ruth. I give you my word 

Devilliers. I must have more. (//<? comes up very close 
to her.') Can you not guess ? {He sei::es her hand.) Your 
surrender ! (He attempts to embrace her?] 

Ruth (breaking from him). No ! No ! 

Devilliers. Am I to be convinced ? Is he here ? 

Ruth. Think what it means. 

Devilliers. To him ? I know. 

Ruth. To me. To me. {She turns to him quickly.) 
Beside, I proved his innocence. At Valley Forge 

Devilliers. That meeting denied, these papers re- 
turned? 'Tis but a fraction of our proof. 

Ruth. You deceive me ! 

'D'EViiAA^i&S, {peremptorily). Is he here ? 

Ruth. You ask me to sell my hand. Oh, wait — wait 



Devilliers. No, it must be now. {He again attempts 
to seize her in his arms.) Tell me, is he here ? 

Henry {emerging from the arbor). Yes. 

Devilliers (laughing). My prisoner, sir. 

Henry {who is very calm). No, I am free. {He ap- 
proaches Devilliers?) Since one must die 

Devilliers. One? 



^5 

Henry. You — or I. 

Devilliers. a challenge ? {Laughing.) I decline. 

Henry {striking Devilliers). You must. 

Devilliers {enraged). This insult 

Henry {i.>ery calm). Avenge it, if you are a man. 'Tis 
nothing to what you have heaped upon her. {He points to 
Ruth.) Insults, dangers, too. 

Devilliers. I'm ready. {He casts his cloak and hat 
tipon the bench at right?) 

Ruth {pleading). Henry ! 

Henry {with dogged calmness). All the angels in heaven 
could not stay my hand. Go ! 

{Ruth draws back from him, looking into his face with an 
expression partly of fear and partly awe. Then she takes his 
hand and presses it to her bosom, between hers. The action 
arouses Henry and he turns to her.) 

Henry. Ruth ! {He seizes her in his arms, kisses and 
thrusts her gently from him.) I'll need your prayers. Fare- 
well. 

{Ruth goes out of the garden on the right}) 

{Henry turns to Devilliers, who lias drawn his pistol and 
noiv raises it slowly toward Henry.) 

Devilliers. I have the upper hand now. {Henry 
slowly approaches Devilliers.) Not a step nearer. {Henry 
pauses.) I would kill you like a dog, were it not for the 
pleasure of seeing you mount the scaffold, suffer the tortures 
of death. 

{Henry springs forward suddenly, and dashes the pistol 
from Devillier's hand.) 

Henry. I am ready. 

Devilliers. But weaponless. 

Henry. No. {Holding out his arms.) These, that 
nature gave us, — arms to overcome, — fingers to strangle. 
Come ! 

{Devilliers springs upon Henry. A struggle ensues after the 
order of wrestling. Devilliers nearly throws Henry, who twists 
back into position, and renews the struggle. Then Henry over- 



66 

powers and strangles Devilliers, casting his body among the 
shrubberies, so that it is completely concealed. Henry seizes 
D evil lie r' s military cloak and hat from the be?ick and dons 
them, picks up the pistol from the ground and turns to approach 
the shrubberies on the left. Then he pauses, quickly returns to 
Devilliers and takes frojn his bosotn the packet of dispatches, 
holditig them up m the moonlight to surely identify them. Then 
he advances to the left and disappears amongst the shrubberies.) 

(A soldier's voice is heard on the left.) 

Soldier. Halt! {A moment of silence.) Beg pardon, 
Lieutenant. Good-night ! 



END OF THIRD ACT. 



67 



THE FOURTH ACT. 

Mrs. Henderson' s Drawing Room, as in the Second Act. 
Night still lingers in the apartment, hut through the curtains 
of the zvindow, the landscape, enshrouded in a heavy mist, is 
showing the first gray streaks preceding the dazvn. The light 
gradually broadens into sunrise, as the act progresses. 

Seated at the table, near the center of the room, Devilliers 
is playing cards with Captain Gowet — a tall, blond, blase officer 
in English tmiform. A pile of coiti and notes lies at Gozver s 
elbow. The coats andivigs of the men are cast aside. By the 
fireplace oji the right, Colonel Clement is seated in an armchair 
fully dressed and soundly sleeping, his wig askew. 

The room is in great disorder. Empty wine glasses, partly 
filled decanters, pipes afid tobacco lie scattered about. The 
candles burn low in their sockets, or are sputtering, as if to go 
out. A sentinel paces to and fro outside of the window. 

Devilliers (who is tipsy). Twenty. 

GowER. Your note of hand ? 

Devilliers. An order on the paymaster. 

GowER. Done. 

( They play, Devilliers pours a glass of wine, and tosses off 
the liquor^ 

GowER. You've had enough, Lieutenant. 

Devilliers. Zounds, man, I'm not drunk. 

GowER. Play. {They proceed with the play .) 

Devilliers {apologetically, as an afterthought). I need 
the wine to brace me. 

GoWER. You should be at the hospital. 

Devilliers. Pshaw ! You speak as if I'd been drawn 
and quartered. What's a fracas more or less ? 

GowER. Lucky you were not killed. 

Devilliers {pictting his hand to his neck-cloth and cough- 
ing). 'Twas not his fault that I wasn't. 

GowER {throwing his last cards 2ipon the table). A king 
and jack. You loose. 



68 

Devillieks. Damn such luck. Another ! 

GowER (rising). I'm done. 

Deviluers {angrily). And I'm bankrupt, man. Would 
you have me believe ? 

GowER {shrugging his shoulders and reseating himself^ 
As you please. And the stakes? 

Devilliers. Your night's winnings against an order on 
my estate. 

{A bugle sounds in the distance, followed by other similar 
calls. Gower glances toward the window^ 

Gower. Zounds ! 'Tis morning. 

Devilliers {tipsily). What if it is, we can sleep all 
day. 

Gower. And the trial of the spy ? 

Devilliers. I forgot that. {He throws his cards upon 
the table?) And I should have been fit. 

Gower {gathering up and pocketing the mo?tey upon the 
table). A bath and a bracer will make you so. 

Devilliers {pointing to Clemeni). The Colonel ! 
{Laughing^ Sleeping there all night. {He goes to Clement 
and shakes him.) Wake up ! Wake up ! 

Clement {awakening). What's the matter ? {He looks 
about the room and yawns?) What time is it? 

Devilliers. Six o'clock. 

Clement {yawning). Oh ! {He nurses his head in his 
hands.) 

{Devilliers and Gower put on their wigs and coats and 
straightett their apparel?) 

Q.\jE.u^w7: {rising and stretching himself). I'm going to 
bed. 

Devilliers. You forget the trial. 

Clement. Hang the spy. 

Gower {laughing). That's what we're going to do. 

( The hoof beats of a horse are heard approaching. The 
three men ttirn to listen.) 

Devilliers. What's wrong at this hour? 



69 

{A cavalryman enters throtigh the window. He presents a 
packet to Cletne7it.) 

GowER. Dispatches ? 

Devilliers. An emergency. 

Soldier (to Clement). With Colonel Musgrave's com- 
pliments, sir. Our scouts brought word before daylight. 

Clement (saluting). My compliments to Colonel Mus- 
grave. They shall be forwarded at once. 

(7/^1? soldier withdraws through the window. The hoof- 
beats of his horse die atvay in the distance.) 

( Clement opens the packet and glances through its con- 
tents^ 

Clement. Another cry of "Wolf- Wolf" [Reads from 
dispatches}) " Renewed activity among the enemy. Yester- 
day they began to entrench themselves in their camp at 
Pennypacker's Mills, as if anticipating an attack." {He flings 
the dispatches upon the table.) They're always active — in de- 
fence. 

Devilliers {laughing). But never dare strike. 

GowER {approaching the window). So we can seek our 
beds in security. Gentlemen, good night — or, rather, good 
morning. {He goes out through the window.) 

Clement. Answer the report, Lieutenant. You know 
what to say. And send for me when the officers come. 

Devilliers. Yes, sir. 

{Clement exits, yawtiing, on the left.) 

{The daivn has brightened, the sky is overcast, a fog en- 
shrouds the landscape}) 

{Devilliers drazvs back the curtains of the window, and 
the room is illuminated with the light of the morning. He 
gases a moment upon the mist and sky, then advances, survey- 
ing the room.) 

Devilliers. Fool ! {He goes to the table atid drinks a 
glass ofivine.) And now for the letter. {He rummages in the 
drawer of the table, gradually becoming angry}) Why can't 
they keep the paper handy ? {He tosses the contents of the 
drawer upon the table}) They've been cleaning up again, — 



putting everything where it doii t belong. Ah ! (He takes 
writing materials from the drawer, sits at the table, and begins 

to write.') "The reports which the spy " Pshaw ! {^He 

scratches out the word). I can think of nothing else. ( Writes^ 
"The scouts — forwarded — are but idle rumors. Our recent 
success — in frustrating the schemes — of the Rebel spy — will, 
we believe — end further efforts to learn of our movements — 
thus crippling the activities of the enemy." 

{Mrs. Henderson enters on the left.) 

Mrs. H. {going to the window.) The messenger brought 
news ? 

Devilliers {as he writes!) Nothing of consequence. 
And Miss Ruth? 

Mrs. H. I've been with her all night. She's inconsol- 
able. 

Devilliers. Unduly apprehensive, perhaps. {During 
the following he folds and addresses the letter^ 

Mrs. H. {shivering, she leaves the windoiv and crosses to 
the fireplace). Oh, what a morning. 

Devilliers. A storm is brewing. 

Mrs. H. {sadly.) Yes, a storm — without and within. 

{Devilliers takes up sealing-wax and a seal, arid during the 
following seals the packet containing his letter and the dis- 
patches. Mrs. Henderson puts the room to rights.) 

Mrs. H. The trial will be held here ? 

Devilliers. Yes, around this table. Colonel Black- 
well. 

Mrs. H. {placing chairs about the table as she repeats the 
names.) Colonel Black well. 

Devilliers. Major Saunders. 

Mrs. H. Major Saunders. 

Devilliers. Colonel Clement ? 

Mrs. H. Colonel Clement. 

Devilliers. And Harris, as secretary. 

{Mrs. Henderson places a chair for Harris, arid arratiges 
the writing materials in front of it.) 

Mrs. H. {surveying the chairs.) It seems like preparing 



71 

for an execution. (Ticnmig to Devilliers wistfully^ Oh, 
Lieutenant, can nothing be done ? 

Devilliers {sealing the letter^ The evidence is most 
conclusive. 

Mrs. H. But you are the chief witness. 

Devilliers. True. {He is silent a moment.') Mrs. 
Henderson, I trust you realize the position in which I am 
placed. First, regarding your niece. The feeling I enter- 
tain toward her 

Mrs. H. I know — {patting his arm affectionately) — and 
approve. 

Devilliers. In return, her affection 

Mrs. H. You can win, I'm sure. She loves no one else. 

Devilliers {dropping the letter and wax). Oh 

Mrs. H. What? 

Devilliers {nursing his finger). I burned myself. 

Mrs. H. We're all likely to do that, if too reckless. {After 
a pause, and while arranging the furniture.) I not only 
approve of your courtship, but will give you every assist- 
ance. 

Devilliers. The unfortunate complications of last 
night make my position a difficult one. 

Mrs. H. Oh ! This terrible affair. What do you 
advise ? 

{Devilliers has finished sealing the letter. Mrs. Hender- 
son removes the implements)} 

Devilliers. If Miss Ruth is frank — tells all she knows 



Mrs. H. Of course. She will. 
Devilliers. And if her affections are mine- 



Mrs. H. Yes. Yes. Why did I not think ? As her 
accepted lover, you will have the right to shield her. 

Devilliers. Exactly. {He smiles and crosses to the 
fireplace, where he taps the Chinese gong upon the mantel?) In 
that case my evidence regarding her will never be uttered. 

Mrs. H; And as for Sampson 



72 

Devilliers {with fierce bitterness). Zounds ! What care 
I for him. 

Mrs. H. {laughing). What, indeed? {She goes to 
Devilliers and seises his hand.) Oh, Lieutenant, you make 
me happy — very happy. Ruth is my brother's only child — 
I love her dearly, am responsible for her, while here. If you 
are .silent — nay, one word on her behalf — and she will stand 
as free from the shadow of this treason as if it had never been. 
{She turns toward the window^ Oh, what need of sunshine 
now? 

{Harris appears on the left.) 

Devilliers {giving Harris the letter.) This must be 
forwarded at once to His Excellency, General Howe. 

Harris. Yes, sir. 

Devilliers. The officers have not arrived ? 

Harris. They may, at any moment. 

Devilliers. Then bring the spy here — at once. 

Harris. Yes, sir. {He exits.) 

Mrs. H. {adva7icing). But liow accomplish this result ? 

Devilliers. You promised every assistance. 

Mrs. H. You wish me ? {She hesitates.) 

Devilliers. I am her suitor. Frankness becomes 
difficult. 

Mrs. H. How stupid of me ! /will plead your cause, 
of course — her aunt, her adviser. 

Devilliers. And above all, a woman. 

Mrs. H. Yes. Yes. I'll do it — plead as if my own 
love was at stake. 

Devilliers. Let her tell all she knows. Remember, 
all {Hesitating slightly.) I cannot appear before the court 
as her champion unless certain of how great, or little, is her 
knowledge — her relations with Sampson — how she secured 
the stolen paper, what she was to do with it. 

Mrs. H, You shall know all. Is she not loyal ? 

Devilliers. Then, if you can hint at my sentiments 

Mrs. H. Trust me for that. She shall be yours. 

{Mrs. Henderson and Devilliers retire toward the window. 



73 

as the door on the left is thrown open and several English sol- 
diers enter, taking positions on either side of the door. Devil- 
liers glances througli the door, and smiles in triumph . Ser- 
geant 0' Leary enters and salutes.) 

O'Leary. The prisoner. {He takes a step aside.) 

{Ruth Weldin enters. She slowly advances, zvithout per- 
ceiving Devilliers, who crosses and motions the soldiets to with- 
draw. They do so, 0' Leary closing the door as he goes out.) 

{Durifig the opening portion of the following dialogue, 
Ruth's mind is apparently benumbed with suffering. She sits 
by the table, her back turned upon Devilliers, who remains, 
unperceived by Ruth, near the window. When the girl turns 
toward him, Devilliers conceals himself behind the curtains of 
the 'window alcove, afterward r eappearing^ 

M-RS. H. {caressing Ruth). Ruth! Darling! Think of 
your danger. 

Ruth {in a monotone). He has escaped. 

Mrs. H. In a moment they will be here — you, tried 
as a spy. 

Ruth {as before). He has escaped. 

Mrs. H. Hut you, a prisoner, — the guilty one. 

Ruth. He has escaped. {She smiles) 

Mrs. H. Ruth ! Arouse ! {She seizes Ruth's arm.) 
Niece ! Think ! 

Ruth {startled, as if awaking). Aunt? {She rises.) 
What is it ? {She looks about the room. Her gaze rests upon 
the cliairs at the table, and preparations for the trial, and she 
suddenly awakens to her situation) Ah ! 

Mrs. H. In a moment the court convenes. 

Ruth. To try mef 

Mrs. H. I tremble at the thought. 

Ruth. They have nothing against me. 

Mrs. H. Nothing? Ah, Ruth, little do you realize 
the truth. They say you shielded Sampson, aided him to 
steal the papers, were responsible for his escape. 

Ruth. Anyone in my place would have done the 



74 

Mrs. H. Not if they were loyal. 

Ruth. I was loyal, and thereby offended. You would 
have done the same. I met Henry — Sampson at Valley 
Forge, knew him as a Tory. I recognized him here as such. 
What harm in that ? Little thought I to betray him. 

Mrs. H. The same man, then ? 

Ruth. Yes. Yes. 

Mrs. H. a spy ? 

Ruth. He sought not to conceal it But oh, what 
had I done? My recognition led to his arrest — this train of 
horrors. But one thought filled my heart — to make amends. 
The soldiers came, I concealed him. Arrest was certain, 
and I, to undo the havoc I had wrought — took the stolen 
papers to deliver them to 

Mrs. H. Another? [Ruth is silent^ An accomplice? 
{Anxiously }j Who? 

Ruth. No ! 

Mrs. H. Why did you take them ? Tell me ! 

Ruth. I will not. 

Mrs. H. Your words convict you. Oh! 'Tis hope- 
less indeed. 

Ruth. Let them do what they will. {Sinks into a chair 
and wearily covers her face with hei hands.) I care not. 

{Devilliers advances. Mrs. Henderson motions him to 
retire.) 

Mrs. H. {going to Ruth). I care, Ruth. {She seizes 
Ruth in her arms.) 

Ruth {sobbing and embracing Mrs. Henderson impul- 
sively). Aunt ! Dear Aunt ! 

Mrs. H. And another cares. 

Ruth. You and 

Mrs. H. a friend — loyal, steadfast, • eager to stand 
between you and danger. 

Ruth. Oh, tell me who? 

Mrs. H. a champion. 

Ruth {after a moment of puzzled doubt). I know of 
none. 



7S 

Mrs. H. No one in this wide world for whose love you 
would go free. 

Ruth. Yes ! Yes ! Oh, let me be free — for his 
sake. 

Mrs. H. Who loves you 

Ruth. Yes ! {Joyfully.) He loves me. 

Mrs. H. Stands ready to lay his life at your feet. 

Ruth. I know ! I know ! 

{Devil Hers slowly advances towards Ruth.') 

Mrs. H. Who waits to set you free. 

Ruth {puzzled). Waits ? 

Mrs. H. Even now ! 

Ruth. Set me free ? Now ? 

Mrs. H. And here ! {She indicates Devilliers.) 

{Ruth turns and sees Devilliers^ 

Ruth. Oh ! 

Mrs. H. Your champion. 

Ruth. No ! No ! 

Mrs. H. Your lover. 

Ruth. I hate him. 

Mrs. H. Ruth ? 

Devilliers. And in return for that hatred, I offer you 
freedom. 

Ruth. Those words insult me. 

Devilliers {shrtigging his shoulders). As you please. 
{He crosses and taps the gong on the mantel.) 

Mrs. H. [pleading with Ruth). Ruth. Think what it 
means. 

Ruth. Make such a bargain? I will die first? 

{Harris enters on the left.) 

Devilliers {to Harris). The officers are here ? 

Harris. Yes, sir. 

Devilliers. The prisoner awaits them. 

{Harris boivs and goes out on the left.) 

Mrs. H. {pleading with Devilliers.) Lieutenant ! Be 
not hasty. Give her but time 



76 

Devilliers. Events must take their course. I can do 
nothing. 

Mrs. H. {in despah-). Alas ! 

{Colonel Blackwell and Major Saiinders, two English offi- 
cers, enter on the left, followed by Harris. They take their 
chairs at the table. Devilliers goes to and converses with them. 
Ruth sits on the right, facing the officers. Mrs. Henderson 
takes up her position beside Ruth.) 

Saunders. We need but Colonel Clement to complete 
the court. {Colonel Clement enters on the left.) Ah, we can 
proceed at once. {Clement takes his seat at the table. Saim- 
ders turns to Mrs. Henderson.) The prisoner has an advo- 
cate? 

Mrs. H. Yes, Lieutenant Devilliers. 

Devilliers. I beg your pardon, I decline. 

Mrs. H. [anxiously). What ? 

Ruth {to Mrs. H). I would have refused him. 

Mrs. H. {despairing). Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! 

Saunders {rising and turning to Riith, who also rises). 
This duty we are called hither to perform, mistress, is more 
painful than I can find words to express. {With feeling.) 
I — I need but think of my own daughters over seas, and 
what it would mean to me, were they here, instead of you. 
Yet, even with my offspring in the position you occupy, I 
would not hesitate. For the crime of high treason committed 
by a spy is the most heinous known to the law of nations — 
its penalty, death. The guilt of an accomplice must be 
regarded as equal to that of the principal, for upon the acts 
of both — the chief and minor offenders, jointly and together — 
rests the fulfilment of the treason. In this proceeding you are 
charged with being the accomplice of a daring.and desperate 
traitor — a spy. The crime is fulfilled — he has escaped- 
While every opportunity will be afforded for a defence, his 
actions must be considered as evidence against you. I warn 
you, for your own sake, to use no word or phrase which 
might increase the impression left by this adverse testimony. 



77 

{He sits and Ruth resume's her chair.) Now for the witnesses. 
Colonel Clement. 

Clement. My statement relates to the manner in which 
Sampson stole the list of troops. {He takes a paper from his 
pocket.) I present a detailed report of the occurrence for the 
court's perusal. {He hands the paper to Saunders.) 

Saunders {glancing through the paper). Good. {Pas- 
sing paper to Harris.) And now, Lieutenant {Devilliers 
rises.) ■ 

Mrs. H. Lieutenant ! You promised 

Devilliers. Under conditions which did not arise. 

Mrs. H. {appealing to the officers). Colonel ! Major ! 

Saunders. He mu.st proceed. 

Mrs. H. And they call this justice ? 
Saunders. In your own words, Lieutenant, relate what 
yoa know of the case. 

{During the follotving, Clement grows very sleepy, and 
dozes.) 

Devilliers. You have been told how I was assaulted, 
— almost murdered by Sampson, who thereupon escaped ? 
{Saunders and Blackwell nod in assent.) I met the prisoner in 
the garden. Evidently she had been conversing with the 
spy. When taken to task for this suspicious circumstance, 
she confessed that she had the papers 

Ruth {ast07iished and half rising.) Oh ! {Mrs. Hender- 
son presses her back into her chair^ 

Devilliers. How she obtained them I did not know 
until, a moment since, I heard from her own lips 

Mrs. H. {interposing sharply) You must not ! She spoke 
to me — in confidence, and you promised to be silent if — 
{she hesitates.) 

Devilliers. Exactly. If 

Mrs. H. She became your wife. 

{Saunders and Blackwell turn to Devilliers in surprised 

Devilliers {to the officers.) An excuse I had to give. 

Mrs. H. But 

Saunders. 'Tis legal evidence. Proceed. 

LofC. 



78 

Devilliers. She admitted meeting Sampson at Valley 
Forge, plotting with him to betray us. 

Ruth {rising- excitedly.^ 'Tis false ! 'Tis false ! 

Devilliers. Last night she received the stolen letters 
to transmit to their accomplice. 

Ruth {to Sajutders.) I meant to return them, undo the 
theft, set him free. {Devilliers laughs incredulously.) Oh, 
believe him not. 

Devillers. I speak the truth. 

Ruth {scornfully, to Devilliers.) You know not what 
truth is. {To Saunders.) Oh, if you could seehini as I do — 
the scoundrel. I told my story to my aunt — in confidence. 
He acted the part of the eavesdropper — the spy. Nor is 
that all. Last night 

Devilliers {ifiterrttpting sharply.) You lie ! 

Clement {awaking from a sound sleepy A lie ? Of 
course the prisoner lies. 

Saunders {turning to Ruth.) ■ What of last night ? 

Ruth. He offered me Sampson's freedom for mine own. 

Saunders. Indeed ! 

Devilliers. This girl's words 

Blackwell. Are entitled to some credence, sir. 

Ruth. Oh, let me tell you all. 

Mrs. H. {seeking to restrain her) Ruth 

Ruth. Better that, than his falsehoods. {Indicating 
Devilliers^ 

Mrs. H. {anxiously'). But 

Ruth. I have no fear. 

Saunders {after a consultation with Clement and Black- 
well). You confess — of your own free will? 

Ruth. Yes. 

Saunders. Proceed. {Ruth hesitates as to where to 
begin.) You are a Rebel ? 

Mrs. H. a Tory. 

Saunders. Let her swear it. {He takes a Bible from 
the table and extends it toward Ruth.) 

Saunders. You swear 



79 

Ruth. That I am loyal — to my king. 

Saunders. His Majesty, George the Third. 

Ruth. My king. 

Mrs. H. That proves her innocence. 

Saunders [to Ruth). You aided Sampson to escape? 

Ruth. I did. 

Saunders. Deliberately ? 

Ruth. Most willingly. 

Saunders. But why ? 

Devilliers. 'Tis simple enough. 

Saunders {silencing Devilliers with a gesture). You are 
discredited, sir. {To Ruth.) Why? 

Ruth. I love him. 

Mrs. H. {astonished). Ruth? 

Ruth. Yes — yes. I love him ! And for that love I 
stand here — accused, condemned — and regret not. 

Saunders. This means 

Ruth. Yes, I am guilty — guilty 

{Saunders, Blackwell and Clement consult in whispers, 
Devilliers has approached the witidow.) 

{A soldier enters quickly through the ivindow. He speaks 
to Devilliers in a whisper. Devilliets seems surprised at the 
information he imparts, and says a word to the soldier, who 
exits through the windoiv quickly. Devilliers looks towards 
Ruth, smiling^ 

{Saunders, Blackwell and Clement rise and turn to Rjtth.) 

Saunders. However we might have been prejudiced 
in your favor, these words leave us no alternative. The 
decision of the court is 

Devilliers. One moment, gentlemen. I have been 
informed of another witness. 

Saunders. In her favor ? 

Devilliers. Against her. 

Saunders. The testimony is needless. {To Ruth.) 
The sentence of the court is — death. 

Mrs. H. {seizing Ruth in her arms and turning upon the 
officers in defiance). You shall not ! 



8o 

(^A file of soldiers appears outside of the window}) 

Ruth. 'Tis my expatiation — I have succeeded — he 
is free — he is free. 

{The soldiers beyond the window separate, and Henry 
Culbertson walks tJirough them and enters. His hands are 
tied behind his back, while over his slioiilders is throzvn Devil- 
liers' scarlet cloak, whieh Henry donned in the preceding act.) 

Ruth. Henry ! 

( The soldiers outside the window move off, except Sergeant 
O'Leary, who stands on guard at the window during the follow- 
ing.) 

{The officers and Mrs. Henderson gaze upon Henry in 
amazement. Henry' s manner is calm, even jesting at times.) 

Henry. I scarcely expected we should meet again. 
{His eyes rest upon Ruth, and he turns to the officers luith sud- 
den apprehension}) This girl? 

Devilliers {in triumph). Even now sentenced as a 
spy. 

Henry. She is innocent. 

Saunders. What? 

Blackwell. Impossible. 

Henry. The spy says it. 

Clement. It means your death. 

Henry. I came hither to die. 

Ruth. Henry ! 

Mrs. H. Are you mad ? 

Henry. I could not let her — this girl I love — remain 
here — alone — unprotected, to suffer for my offense. 

Saunders and Blackwell. Ah ! 

Devilliers {joyfully). At last ! 

Henry {to Devilliers). I only regret I did not kill 
you. I thought I had. {To the other officers}) I came here 
as a spy — stole the papers, fought this scoundrel for his insult 
to yonder sweetheart — escaped 

Clement. The accomplice ? 

Henry. There was none. By ten o'clock I gained my 
horse in the forest. At midnight, with hard riding, I reached 




8i 

our camp, placed my message in the hands of General Wash- 
ington. 



Saunders {^greatly alarmed). You mean 1 

Henry. Exactly. He has them now. 

{All excited consultation occurs between Clement, Devilliers 
and Blackwell.) 

Henry. A few hours' sleep, I set forth to return, was 
arrested at your outposts — as I expected. What more need 
be said ? I am here. 

Devilliers. Admittedly a Rebel spy. 

Henry. Lieutenant, I borrowed your cloak, and now re- 
turn it, with thanks. {He shifts his shoulders.) As my hands are 
bound 

{Devilliers snatches the cloak from Henry's shoulders. 
Henry stands revealed in the uniform of a Co7itinental colonel. 

Henry {to Divilliers). You are answered. A spy? 
No. A Rebel ? Yes — Colonel in Washington's army. 

Ruth {approaching him). Henry ! Henry ! Are you 
mad ? 

Henry {whispering softly to RutK). • You bid me fight. 

Ruth. But not this suicide. 

Henry {softly). 'Twas to serve you. 

Ruth. The folly of it. 

Henry. All is well. Believe me, all is well. 

Saunders {turning to 0' Leary). To jail with him. 

Henry. I am ready. 

{0' Leary advances toward Henry.) 

{A distant shot is heard. Henry turns to listen. Devil- 
liers also hears it and turns. The others do not notice it.) 

Saunders {to Harris). Call the guard. {To 0' Leary.) 
You're not enough for both. 

Henry. Both ? {hidicating Ruth^ She must go free. 

Saunders. Your accomplice? 

Henry. As innocent as your king himself 

Devilliers. She stands convicted by her own words. 

Henry {turning to Ruth in surprise). Ruth ! 



82 

Ruth {going to Henry). Your sacrifice is in vain. There 
is no escape. 

Henry {softly to Ricth). Nay. Never was hope brighter 
than now. 

{A volley of musketry heard in the distance^ 

{Shouts outside of the window, bugle calls and beating of 
drums. All turn toward the window in ast07iishinent.) 

Blackwell. The call to arms. 

Henry {whispering to Ruth). It has come ! 

{A soldier appears in the window?) 

Soldier. The Rebels ! The Rebels ! An attack. 

{Clement, Devilliers and Blackwell run off followed by 
Mrs. Henderson. Saunders turns to Set ge ant O'Leaty.) 

Saunders. Your life pays for their escape. 

{O'Leary salutes. Satmders exits hurriedly.) 

{ The sound of the battle increases in volume, growing 
nearer and nearer. Then there is a momentary bdl.) 

Ruth. Henry ! What does it mean ? 

Henry. My dispatches delivered, the army moved 
before daybreak. 

Ruth. To offer battle ? 

Henry. Do you not hear ? 

{The din of battle begins again, now close at hand ^ 

{Henry turns upon 0' Leary, who presents his gun to bar 
Henry's progress. Henry struggles with the cords that bind 
him. Ruth loosens thetn. Henry springs upon 0' Leary, and, 
after a moment of stt uggle throws hiw backward over a chair 
and seizes his gtm.) 

{A cheer rises above the di?t of battle. English soldiers seen 
inflight. American soldiers fill the background^ 

Henry {seizing Ruth in his arms). Come ! We are 
free 1 



The End of the Play. 



>>K tttrtil 



APR 19 1901 






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